


Die Vergoldete Elster

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Angst, Guilt, I promise that parts of this are fun and not awful, M/M, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Racism, Prostitution, Sex Work, Sibling Incest, Stripping, Trauma, Weimar Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 118
Words: 110,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning to Germany following years of forced labour in Russia, Thor heads to the strange underworld of Berlin in search of his little brother.</p><p>Instead, he finds the Magpie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Willkommen, Bienvenue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112882) by [needleyecandy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy). 



> Back in February, Needleyecandy wrote a wonderful oneshot set in 1920s Berlin and I was tempted to write something in the same setting.
> 
> Well, here it is. Hers is more fun, probably. You should read it, it's great.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (Please note that parts of this are less researched than most of my other historical fics as a lot of relevant resources were either in German or behind a paywall. Sorry if anything is horribly blatantly wrong!)

Children ran away as Thor shuffled along the roads. It would have hurt, but he was used to it. Just like he was used to the constant pain in his joints, used to the blisters, used to the fact his hand would never quite be the same again. You could get used to anything, given enough time.

He was used to how thin and frightened the children were too. All the children he had seen were over-thin and frightened. Women hurriedly pulled their offspring inside, looking out at him suspiciously. It was the uniform, he thought. The mud-coloured clothes that hung loosely from his wasted flesh.

No one wore this uniform anymore.

Why would they? The war had been over for nearly five years now.

He would change soon. Already he was thinking of the smell of carbolic soap and lavender pockets in the drawers, a crisp white shirt and sturdy trousers. What he used to wear, before all this had happened.

The village looked the same, almost. More run down, perhaps. Shabby. Whitewash was peeling away from the front of some cottages, the brightly painted window frames faded and bleached by the sun. Thorny weeds sprouted around the old well in a way they never had before.

Still, it was home. Thor felt his heart lift for the first time in longer than he cared to remember. Home. Where he'd spent so many happy childhood years running up and down the fields to scare the birds, stealing windfalls from the orchard, trying to sing along as Loki played the piano.

Loki... Of all the thoughts that had kept him going, that had kept him alive, even while his comrades fell into despair, it was knowing that Loki was safe here. He was too young for the army. He would not see the fields of death or hear the horrible screams of hundreds of men bleeding slowly into their graves, would not experience that stench that even now would not leave Thor's nostrils.

Other men spoke of wives, sweethearts, children. But Thor had his brother. He had promised Loki he would get home. Promised him.

He could see them now. How Mother would drop whatever she was holding in shock when he entered, how her voice would tremble as she hugged him. How surprised she would be to see him after all this time. And then he would go down to the bakery for something sweet and delicious to surprise Father and Loki when they got in from the fields.

Loki would be nearly 23 now. A man grown. When Thor had last seen him, he had just shot up in height, a gangly 15-year-old with awkward limbs and a developing tenor voice. Maybe now he had filled out, become a strong, healthy young man. He would not be cut down as so many of Thor's friends were. He would be happy and live long. They would both get old.

He could already see his brother's smile. Hear his laughter. Was he still as mischevious as before or had he mellowed now? Thor couldn't help hoping that a bit of that playful naughtiness remained.

The curtains were closed as he approached the house, but the whole village was quiet. Maybe it was Sunday. It might be, for all he knew. The dim winter dawn had broken some time ago, but perhaps this was a holiday or...

He tried the door but found it locked, rapping his knuckles against it and knocking a few flecks of paint to the doorstep in the process. Pale blue. He remembered Father bringing the tin home, how pleased he was to have bought it cheaply from a travelling merchant. They had painted as much as possible in it. The door, the privy, even using the dregs to colour in some of the sweet little flowers on the wallpaper in the room Mother hopefully called 'the parlour'. Everyone else called it the front room, the comfortable place where the soft chairs were, forever needing patched. It was his favourite room, where they all sat together, listening as Loki played his scales while Father harrumphed at the newspaper and Mother sewed or read. That was where he would get to know them all again. And not a moment too soon.

No answer. He tried again. They must still be asleep. If he was braver, he would toss pebbles up at the room he and Loki had shared, but he didn't want to risk the window pane.

Only when he was hammering frantically at the door did someone speak to him. A voice behind him.

"Sir? Can I help you?"

He span round, trying not to feel frantic, stunned to find that he recognised the owner of that voice.

And evidently she recognised him too, her eyes going wide.

"Thor? Thor, is that you?"

"Sif?"

Yes, he remembered her. A year or two younger than him, a year or two older than Loki and just as fond of getting into scrapes as both of them. She had lived with her older half-brother, Heimdall, forever making him roll his eyes and sigh fondly as she behaved in decidedly unladylike ways, turning cartwheels in the village square, singing out of tune deliberately in church. How had that laughing girl become so tired? Her eyes were shadowed, her cheeks pale, hair pulled back tightly.

"We thought you were dead," she said, voice shaking.

"Where is everyone? Where is my family?"

He felt his heart break as her hand flew to her mouth, large dark eyes filling with tears.

No... No, please, no.

"Come with me," she said, taking his arm and rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. "You need to sit down."

He couldn't do much else but follow her. He didn't want to hear, but he needed to know. Sif led him down the street to her home. He didn't think he had ever been inside here before. He didn't often pay calls, before. Too interested in being out of doors to want to nose in at other people's houses.

Heavy pans on the range, a strange bitter smell everywhere. Thor noted the burns on Sif's fingers, the smudges on her clothes. Her home was scrupulously clean, but she clearly wasn't taking care of herself. And there was clutter everywhere, as though far more people lived here than Sif and her brother.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to a low wooden chair. "Please sit down."

She clattered about the kitchen, pouring two steaming cups of dark liquid before sitting opposite him, sipping anxiously. It had been a long time since he'd had coffee, but this was vile. Or maybe that was the awful sickness in the pit of his stomach.

He saw her glance at his hand, the space where his smallest two fingers used to be, and then look hurriedly away.

"What happened?" he asked, numb. "And when?"

She sighed.

"Winter six years ago. Two years after you volunteered. It was harsh. Terribly harsh, colder than any I have seen. And we had no food. There was nothing left. We ate what we could. Grass. Bark. Dandelions. Turnips. So many turnips. It was all we could grow. It was hard, but somehow we made it through. And then the flu hit."

She had green wallpaper that might once have been lighter, decorated with pictures from newspapers and sketches that might be her own. Thor stared at them without really seeing. His family. Gone. All this time. When he'd been imagining their reactions to his return and the future waiting for him, they were gone.

"The flu," he repeated helplessly.

"It was everywhere, Thor. It killed thousands. And since everyone was weakened by the scarcities... They didn't have the energy to fight it. And then when Loki decided to leave, I couldn't stop him. He wouldn't listen to me..."

Thor leapt to his feet, hitting his head on some dried rosemary tied to the ceiling and sending shards of leaf fluttering down into his coffee.

"Loki lives?"

She looked almost fearful, wary. Like she was afraid to tell him. Why? Why wouldn't she want to tell him?

"I don't know. I haven't seen or heard from him for three years. When the war ended and a year passed and you didn't come home... He fell into a kind of crisis. He couldn't bear to stay here. So he pawned all he had and went north. Berlin, he said."

Berlin. They'd never been to Berlin. Always too far, always too many things needing done at home to prevent such a trip. But Loki had always wanted to go. The big city. The biggest city. Nothing else would do, of course. He always was ambitious.

"He's still alive," Thor said firmly. "I have to go, I have to find him."

"Thor, please. Sit down. Eat with us, stay for the night. Tell us what happened, where you've been all this time."

"It's a long story."

"Then be long about it. Rest. You look like you've been walking for a year and a day."

"I didn't keep such precise count. I may have been for all I know. A little longer as I head up to Berlin won't add much more."

Sif blinked at him for a moment and then started to laugh. Thor felt his cheeks twitch. A smile. It had been so long since he'd smiled. He wasn't sure what they were cheerful about though.

"I can't believe you're here," she said, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "It seems a lifetime ago that we were all children together. And you never had much time for counting, even then. I just... I wish I had better news for you."

"I made it back. I'm luckier than most."

He let the corners of his mouth curve upwards. Was his smile still the same? Mother always said he was most handsome when he smiled. He wondered if she would still think so.

The pain would come, in time. He was still too shocked to accept the reality, that his parents were gone.

Loki was still alive though. He still had a brother. He was not alone.

He just had to go to Berlin and find him.


	2. Chapter 2

In his nightmares, he sometimes found himself back there. The Eastern Front. Seeing the advancing Russians cut down in a bloody stream of bullets. It was not fighting. Fighting implied some kind of tactics or equal contest rather than a hideous slaughter on both sides and constant dreadful bombardment. They wouldn't inflict such deaths on animals on the farm. In his sleep, he saw it all again and again and again, felt the burn of the machine gun beneath his hands, unable to turn away, nose filled with the smell of death and the disgusting stench of the piss-soaked rags they used for protection against the yellow gas.

Not always. Often he dreamt he was in Russia again, experiencing for the thousandth time what he gave Sif, Heimdall and all their guests a potted history of. He didn't tell them everything. He _couldn't_ tell them everything, he couldn't tell anyone that.

His battalion was taken prisoner in 1917, marched through the Balkans and into Russia itself, delivered for weeks on end into holding camps. He got the distinct impression that they had far more prisoners than they knew what to do with. They certainly had more than they could feed. Fights broke out often, yelling in German and Italian and a dozen other languages as men squabbled over food. And anyone who fell ill... Well, sleeping literally on top of one another didn't exactly aid recovery.

Eventually he was among a group who were rounded up apparently at random and taken on foot into the wilderness, forced to wait for heavy trucks full of metal, tools and armed guards.

"Build," they were told.

And so they built. For years, they laid sleepers, they hammered rivets, they coughed and starved and froze. He never knew where he was. No one ever said. No one said that the war was over either, not even when they'd pointed him in the direction of Germany and shoved. He'd only learned that when he stumbled back across the border and found someone to ask.

Or maybe they had told him. He didn't understand anything they said except blunt orders.

"Was it an industrial accident, then?" Heimdall asked. "Your fingers?"

Thor glanced down at his left hand. Two little fingers missing out of five and it somehow made it so unwieldy, so difficult to use properly.

"In a way," Thor said, carefully. "But mainly through stupidity on my part. I knew of frostbite, of course, but I didn't know how quickly it could take effect. A tear in my gloves, stupidly tugging off the laddered fabric and... Well, I learned to work faster and faster. It kept me warm. Kept the blood up. Kept the guards happy."

He'd learned to piss quickly too. He really didn't fancy losing that particular extremity.

He couldn't bear to talk about the other things he had done to keep warm. Instead they passed the rest of the evening sharing memories of life before. Before the war. Before he'd decided to volunteer for the army and go to 'sort things out.'

What a stupid boy he had been. Loki had been right.

Sif made up a bed by the range for him, just cushions and blankets. They had a fair number of rooms, but they were all occupied by groups of people now. Families.

"It makes sense to live together," she told him, shaking dust out of a rag rug by the door. "Heimdall and I rattled around in here for years before Loki joined us. We couldn't let him be alone, after your parents... And then Eir and her son, old Mr Tyr, Hilde and all of her family. We share coal and food and we reuse everything. It's nice. Cosy. Efficient, especially when it comes to rent."

Thor stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hair clean for the first time in so long, neatly trimmed along with his beard using scissors borrowed from Heimdall. 

He hadn't recognised the face in the mirror.

He had questions of his own, but he didn't know how to ask them. What had happened to the village? It used to be so vibrant, so happy. Simple, good lives. He had walked past fields full of grain, full of people working. Heimdall and the others had been out there in the fields while Sif took care of the house, cleaning and cooking and mending. It had been years since the war ended. Why were they still suffering so much?

"Looks like a fine harvest," he said vaguely.

"Hmm? Oh. Yes. But we'll not see much of it. No, it all goes, these days."

"Goes? Goes where?"

She fluffed his pillow for what was surely the fifth time.

"Well, the war repayments, of course. Germany is bankrupt and must make amends to our former enemies in any way possible. Grain is sent as payment in kind, along with wood, coal..."

"What? Why?"

Yet more smoothing of the blankets. She was upset. Powerless. And she didn't like that, evidently.

"After the end of the war, when the treaties were signed, they decided it was Germany's fault. So we have to pay back our debts. We have to pay for the war."

Debts? How much was the war worth? What had it cost all those other nations?

How much was a human life worth? Multiplied by so many...

"How much?"

"Well, they have reduced the amount, I understand."

"How much?"

She sighed.

"130 billion Marks or thereabouts."

Thor couldn't even comprehend such a large number. It seemed preposterous. There was not so much money in the while world. They would not ever be able to pay that.

"That's a lot of grain," he said vaguely.

Sif snorted and picked up her candle, made from melted remains of old stubs by the look of it.

"Well, the French are already occupying land along the border in protest at defaults on wood and coal. There'll be another war at any moment at this rate. Maybe we'll win that one."

Thor forced a grimace. She shouldn't even joke about such a thing.

"Goodnight, Sif. And thank you."

"Goodnight. I'm sorry to have had to tell you such awful news."

He shrugged and shook his head.

"Not your fault. Can't be helped. Tomorrow I will head north and look for Loki. We'll be back before you know it, unless he is very prosperous in Berlin. Either way, I will write and let you know."

The look on Sif's face didn't fill him with confidence.

"Maybe you should stay here a little longer," she said. "You've not heard the news in so long. You should catch up."

"Thank you, but I believe I've taken too much from you as it is. You have quite enough mouths to feed. And besides, the sooner I set out, the sooner I will get to Berlin, the sooner I will find Loki."

She didn't try to argue, merely wished him goodnight again and left him in darkness. The range retained a little heat from cooking dinner, but not too much. Still, it was warmer than the chill of outside air he had grown used to.

All too soon, the horrors started to push into his mind. He tried to force them away, determined to think only of good things.

He wondered what work Loki had found. A teacher perhaps. A book keeper. A bank clerk. Something with a lot of responsibility and respect, his neat writing swirling across page after page. Perhaps he worked for a lawyer or a man of business.

Whatever it was, he would be successful at it. Thor was certain of that. His clever brother could make a success of anything.

He fell asleep on that thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Birds chirped cheerfully enough from the hedgerows as Thor bid Sif and Heimdall goodbye the next morning, giving him a sense of hope and purpose. They had tried to convince him to stay, to take a shirt or a pair of trousers, but he had politely refused.

They couldn't spare such things, he could see that. They were hiding their poverty as best they could, but he knew things were not right. There was something in the bread that made it heavy and unpleasant. Something burned alongside the coal that smelled different. And when he had seen Sif grinding acorns in the morning... Well, it explained the bitter coffee.

They all seemed used to it. He couldn't deprive them of anything more, no matter how freely offered.

He'd stolen quite enough, he felt. He had no money, no possessions except the clothes on his back. On the journey home, he'd tried his best not to steal. He'd had to in Russia. People threw stones at him, trying to chase him away from their homes. He took what he could to survive, but he wasn't exactly fussy.

Years ago, he remembered how difficult it had been for his parents to convince him to eat pickled cabbage. The harsh vinegar tang, the bitter leaves... He had much preferred it fresh, which just wasn't possible in winter. He used to try to rinse it in the water butt, much to his mother's despair.

In Russia, he had dreamt of having something as good as pickled cabbage. He'd stolen food from pig troughs and stables, eaten raw oats to fill the gaping hole in his stomach. His diet had vastly improved once he heard German again, finally able to offer payment in kind for a little food. He had mended fences, fixed loose roof tiles, taken a turn at a plough. Anything to feel he had earned an apple or a slice of bread and dripping or a few boiled potatoes.

People were slow to trust. He couldn't blame them. Even as he made his way slowly but steadily north, trying his best to find odd jobs he could do, more often than he liked he ended up taking what he could. Anything that made him feel full. He even ate leaves and bark from trees sometimes. If cows could do it, why not him?

He heard snippets of news and tried not to worry. Words like 'unemployment', 'hyperinflation', 'passive resistance' and 'crisis' entered his ears and were mainly ignored. That was surely elsewhere, perhaps where the French army were occupying. The Ruhr, it was called. He'd never been. Never even heard of it.

Confidence was necessary. He had seen what happened to men who lost hope. They died. They almost seemed to welcome it. The most important thing he could do was to remain resolute and sure that Loki was waiting for him. He would be alive and well, he would not be touched by these problems everyone talked about.

It took him over a week to reach Berlin. Longer than he had hoped. But finally he saw the first mile marker, a happy friend, telling him that he was nearly there.

Which, of course, led him to quite a different problem.

The population of Berlin was massive. It was like an army of people all squashed into a space that was not designed to hold so many. Tenement buildings overflowed with residents, whole families sharing rooms. Finding one man amongst all of this? It was going to be quite impossible. Sif had been unable to offer him any idea of where in the city Loki might be. He had never written.

Thor tried at random. He knocked at the doors of solicitors and money lenders, banks, shops, anywhere.

"We've no work," the people would say before he even opened his mouth. "Clear off."

"I'm looking for my brother."

No one knew him. No one had heard of a young man with black hair named Loki. Clear off. No work. You can't sleep here. Get out before we summon the police.

There were daily lines to get bread and milk and Thor became a scholar of them. He searched them for a familiar face, a voice he knew. He asked children in the street to keep an eye out. He tried not to worry too much.

He found himself almost accustomed to everything by the time the retained summer heat finally began to seep out of the stonework, suggesting autumn might be on its way. Sleeping outside was not so bad, and he had shelter of a sort. He was living under a bridge with other destitutes, sharing what they could scavenge from around them. It was the only thing they could do to survive.

He had been up to the the Rathaus and confirmed himself alive, safely returned from forced labour as a prisoner of war in Russia, and received his army pension before making a terrible discovery.

Money wasn't worth anything.

The number in his bank account was higher than it had ever been. Thousands and thousands of Marks. And yet he couldn't afford anything. His ration book could get him the strange bread - they put plaster dust in the flour to make it last longer, or so the rumours had it - and a little rangy meat or cheese, but that was all. He spent his days rooting through rufuse, trying to find anything useful, or better, edible.

He got used to it. The police visits. The deaths by disease or drugs or suicide. Not asking where someone had vanished to, knowing the answer was never anything good. It was a lot like being back in the tundra, really. Better, in that at least his days were broadly his own to use as he saw fit, searching for Loki.

His ghost, the others said. 'Thor's off looking for his ghost again.'

He knew what they thought. That Loki was already dead. That as a young country boy arriving in the capital, he'd been the victim of a mugging or disease or the bottle within a matter of months. But they didn't know Loki. And Thor was certain. One of these days, he'd turn a corner or scan the faces in a line and there would be his brother, waiting for him. He was out there.

He knew it was so. He just had to find the right place to look.

Later, he would realise that even in a hundred years, he never would have looked in the right place at all.

Not without a little outside influence anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

The police came round fairly often. Generally just because they were frustrated, Thor thought. Crime was high and they didn't have the resources to tackle it. It was far easier to find a few tramps to rough up or move out of the warm, dry place they had found in which to sleep. It gave them purpose and he couldn't grudge them that.

Still, Thor had no desire to see their pity or feel their boots against his flesh. The moment he heard a commotion a little distance away, he was up and shuffling off, keeping his head down. They recognised him, of course. The coat was always a bit of a give away. But they didn't pursue him. He wasn't much trouble. He wasn't a drunk, he didn't use any other form of numbing substance. He never fought back, just moved on calmly.

Hours later, far into the night, he was wandering in a less familiar area of town, searching for a doorway to sleep in. He'd been here once or twice before, but he didn't like it. Dangerous and sad. Too many women offering themselves on street corners, a few men too. He wasn't interested in them. Didn't have what they wanted even if he was.

He was kicking some wooden boxes aside in the hope of finding a suitable space when he spotted the couple further up the street, illuminated by the grimy light of a street lamp, the oil flickering and making their shadows dance monstrously. It didn't look like the usual style of transaction. The woman was short, dark hair left unusually long though she was dressed in an approximation of the fashionable dresses hopefully displayed in the boutiques. She didn't really have the right kind of figure for it though, the square cut looking strange on her.

She was crowded against the wall, pushing insistently against a hulking man, shaking her head and trying to step away. This was no coy game of pretending to be caught. She didn't want this.

For a moment, Thor considered walking away. It wasn't his business after all.

And then she looked at him and he knew he couldn't. That expression would haunt him for the rest of his life if he did. That look of fear and helplessness, a plea for aid. If he didn't help, that face would join all the others he saw in his nightmares, the young men, the fathers and brothers and sons that he had shot and killed, the comrades he had left, the friend he'd...

He had to stop this. He had to do something right. He had to show that he could make a difference, do something, anything, of worth.

"Hey!" he yelled, rushing down the street.

The man turned, an ugly snarl upon his lips. Wide pupils. Unnaturally wide. He was not in his right mind, that much was clear.

"What d'you want?"

"I think the lady wants you to leave her alone."

"Fuck off, I'll pay 'er. She knows I'll pay 'er."

"I really don't think she wants to engage in any... in anything..."

The man staggered backwards, allowing the poor woman to slip away down a nearby alleyway. And Thor was glad of that, that she was safe, but now there was an angry, probably drunk man advancing towards him. In Thor's experience, angry, drunk men did not go down easily.

He tried to walk away then but found himself chased. He held up his hands and smiled and tried not to strike in case he didn't have to.

That was his first mistake.

The drunk man threw himself at him, knocking him to the ground. Neither of them had any finesse in their fighting and Thor was mostly focused on trying to get away, to stun perhaps but not cause too much damage.

His assailant had other ideas and Thor found himself pinned on his back, struggling as huge hands closed around his neck, squeezing hard. He scratched and clawed, kicking out to no avail, wondering if this was how it was going to happen. He had survived the war and the prisoner camp and the winters of Russia and now here he was, dying on the streets of Berlin.

Why had he lived where so many had died? It didn't make sense.

Maybe the universe was trying to give him a clue. That he'd lived too long.

Maybe Loki wasn't out there after all.

There was a thud somewhere above him and the hands withdrew. Something wet hit him in the face as he gasped for breath, finding the street girl standing above him with a brick in her hand and the man spitting blood next to him. She kicked him in the side, setting him sprawling in the gutter, groaning and coughing.

"You hit him," Thor wheezed, wiping his face and finding red stains on his fingers.

"Come on," she said, offering a hand. "I know a place. Nearby. Safe."

Why did he follow her? He wasn't even sure. He had no interest in going to a brothel. But they had some kind of connection now. They had mutually saved one another.

And the idea of getting to wash his face somewhere other than in the river, maybe even in clean water...

"Have we met before?" the woman asked.

He tried to look at her, difficult in the dim light. She seemed to want to stick to the edges of streets, almost hiding. It was unlikely though.

"I don't think so."

"You look familiar."

"I don't come round here much. I'm mainly down by the bridges."

"Don't like company?"

There was heavy meaning in her tone and he knew what she was implying.

"I doubt I'd be good conversation," he said vaguely. "And I don't exactly have the means to pay for it, even if I were."

They walked in silence for several streets. Everyone they passed, the nocturnal creatures of this side of town, gave them knowing looks. In the shadows, they must look like buyer and seller. Customer and proprietor.

"Why did you refuse that man?" Thor asked, genuinely curious. "Because he was drunk?"

"No. I don't fuss too much about that sort of thing. But I've met him before. The last time I had him, he gave me a black eye. Puts a girl off rather. Thanks for the interruption."

"Thanks for the brick."

She laughed, finally leading him into a more populated street, a line of men waiting at the doors of a club. Thor knew these places, or knew of them, at least. Cabarets. Dancing girls and music performances. Very sleazy from what he'd heard. He heard a few jeers and catcalls, even a few complaints as his new friend led him right to the front of the line with just a nod to the tall, broad man waiting by the heavy door and through some thick curtains into the building within.


	5. Chapter 5

Little tables, barely illuminated with sputtering candles, one or two patrons at each of them. The whole place was dingy, smoky. The air was thick with the smell of cigarettes and...

And something else too, like sweat but different...

Oh.

Thor noticed the hands under clothes, the rapid movements, and hurriedly turned his attention to the stage instead. It was brightly lit, a pool of light compared to the dim everywhere else.

Looking at it was possibly his second mistake of the night.

Two women, not nearly enough clothes for Thor's liking. He felt his cheeks heat at the sight of them, kissing and touching each other as they sat on a low couch, like a chaise longue. One was teasing the other's nipples slowly between two fingers, making her gasp and pant. It stirred something in him, a sickly kind of arousal. Base lust, but revulsion at being witness to what must surely be a private act. He tore his eyes away, mortified by his own curiosity. Of course, he knew that two men could... enjoy one another. He'd been in the army a long while, after all. But the sight of women together, women full stop, was something new.

"Got a spare rag, Erik?" his friend asked the barman. "Managed to get into a little pickle. My brave knight needs cleaning up."

The older man threw her a cloth and frowned faintly at Thor.

"Have you been here before?" he asked.

"No. Never," Thor said, sitting at one of the bar stools with his back firmly towards the light.

He could hear the slick sounds of kissing, little moans and tiny giggles. The scrape of a chair as a patron moved. The rustle, rustle, rustle of clothing.

"Looks familiar, doesn't he? I was just saying so outside. But he says he doesn't do this sort of thing."

She was talking as she wiped the blood from his face, scrubbing him pink with the rough material and grinning at him afterwards. Thor was suddenly struck by the fact that she was very beautiful and very tired, the heavy makeup she wore concealing a little too much of the former and a little too little of the latter.

"You know it's dangerous out there," Erik said. "I wish you'd stay in more."

"Got to pay my way. We don't all have a gimmick worth showing off. Give my soldier a drink, he might have saved my life."

Cheeky. But the man was indulgent, pouring a small whisky and pushing it across the bar.

"Does the soldier have a name?"

"Thor. Thank you."

He took a sip, trying to savour it as his father had once shown him. He quickly got the impression that this was not exactly savouring whisky.

"Why do I know that name?"

Thor shrugged.

"Not that uncommon, I suppose."

He wanted to keep talking, keep distracting himself Behind him, the moans had become loud. There was a fast rhythm to them, a sort of desperate keening sound and one of the women crying out. His body was very, very interested in those noises. It seemed to be a primal thing, entirely bypassing his conscious desires.

He didn't want to look. Surely it wasn't right. He didn't know if those women wanted to do such things together. Maybe they didn't even like each other. But he was also so curious and found himself unable to resist, finally looking back into the light at a particularly loud cry.

It seemed he had missed the climax of the performance, as it were. They were kissing again, chest to back, the more dominant one behind having the other suck on her fingers as she petted her hair indulgently. His eyes were drawn helplessly downwards to where her legs were wide apart, deep pink flesh on display. He had never seen that part of a woman before, not so openly. There had generally been another man in the way as he hurriedly passed by an evening transaction, or skirts covering his inexpert attempts at sexual activity during his later adolescence. He hoped the woman didn't see him staring. Then again, as her companion helped her onto shaking legs, he couldn't believe she would care.

A few of the patrons stood to leave, evidently finished.

"Do the women not get paid?" Thor asked, eyes still on them, their smooth skin disappearing backstage. He expected them to collect money, or for it to be left on tables for them.

"There's a charge to get in and you pay for drinks, unless you're with me, of course. The performers share some of the takings. Already someone will be running to the salesmen outside to get what they need before the price goes up again."

Thor didn't buy things. He had his rations and scavenged the rest. But he could imagine what she meant. Black market food. Drink. Drugs, perhaps.

He wanted to leave, but he felt he couldn't really. It would be rude. Even in these awful surroundings, he didn't want to be rude. He didn't even know the girl's name, for goodness' sake.

"What do they call you?"

 _"They_ call me whatever they want, but I call myself Lewis. It's striking. Memorable."

She held out her hand for him to shake, glancing over his shoulder for the next performer appearing. Thor was determined not to look. He had mortified himself enough for one night.

But then he heard it.

That laugh.

He'd heard that laugh in his pleasant dreams, few and far between though they were. It was such a familiar sound, something he would surely never mistake.

Loki. It sounded like Loki was here, maybe at one of these tables.

He turned to look, trying to find his brother in the crowd of men, squinting in the low light. They all had items in their hands, bread or wrapped parcels, one or two even clutching necklaces. He couldn't see Loki among them.

The laugh again and Thor looked to the stage.

And stared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hermaline, you're such a tease!"
> 
> I know, I know... I'm not remotely sorry, but I know...


	6. Chapter 6

There was a man on the stage. He was wearing a sort of short tunic that might have been a dress, but the figure was unmistakably male. Long black hair fell about his shoulders, pale face split by a grin as he turned this way and that. The bright lanterns that illuminated the stage made his skin seem to shine, like he was made of pearls.

Magnetic. Thor couldn't tear his eyes away as this creature moved, bare feet upon the wooden floorboards. This man sounded like his brother, but Loki had never looked anything like this...

He found himself standing up, beginning to move forwards before forcing himself to stop. He felt like he was trespassing, like he shouldn't be here. He could hear though, watching as the man spread his arms wide, like a conjureror.

"So..." he said, his voice low and full of promise. "What have you got for me?"

There was suddenly clamouring, the waiting men moving up to surround the stage, calling out, holding up the items they had brought with them.

"What are they doing?" Thor asked.

"The Magpie has the best gimmick," Lewis said, sounding a little jealous. "They're bidding for his skin."

His skin? Thor looked back in time to see this Magpie point at a man close to the stage, the rest going quiet as he pulled him up onto the boards with him and inspected his gift. A bottle. The cork was quickly tugged out with his teeth, a long swig taken.

"Mmm... Oh, that's _much_ better than what you brought last time. Fifteen."

A cheer went up as the bottle was passed to a stocky man who was suddenly present, almost as if he'd dropped from the rafters. It was squirreled away behind the stage curtains as the Magpie turned his back and the gift-bringer began tearing parts of his tunic away.

Thor stared. It was made from lots of small pieces of paper. Notes all sewn together.

The Magpie was wearing clothes made out of money.

A loaf of bread. Five. A bundle of cheese. Seven. Half an ounce of lard. One.

Man after man stepped up to tear away bills and soon the Magpie's back was bared, the slope of his shoulders giving way to an expanse of smooth skin criss-crossed with the threads holding the tunic together. A slim waist and then...

Thor swallowed hard. A pair of round, pert buttocks above endless legs. He understood now. They were going to strip him naked. Taking payment for bringing him presents.

The most recent giver still had a note in credit and shoved the Magpie's shoulder to make him turn, getting a playful hiss.

"Gently... You know I don't play rough out here. I know for a fact that costs more than you can afford."

He pouted as the scrap covering his right nipple was torn away, tilting his face up and smiling as the man leant in to taste his lips, moaning shamelessly into it.

Thor's face burned. This man might be his brother's ghost, and here he was being touched and used by all these strangers.

The Magpie plucked the note back in return for the kiss and tucked it neatly back into place, winking at the crowd as he selected another man.

Bidding was thick and fast now. No more food. Brooches and trinkets were taken up and examined, the jewels reflecting into the Magpie's face as he grinned and named his price. His chest was bared quickly, nipples pinched to firmness by a man who brought a shining gold bracelet. Rings seemed to permit groping, large hands running up the Magpie's thighs, but never between his legs.

Only about ten notes remained, just hiding his cock. The next few men seemed to waive their rights to them, but the crowd didn't seem to mind as they were lined up on the chaise that still occupied the stage. They must be getting some other kind of payment. Thor shuddered to think.

Finally, the Magpie selected a man carrying a nondescript bag, making interested noises as he opened it and looked inside.

His face fell, the playful note going out of his voice.

"Are these real?" he asked.

"Sure are."

American accent. Thor knew there were tourists who frequented these areas looking for just the kind of debauchery they wanted, and of course, they always had more money than most. Stable currency was quite an advantage, highly prized. Thor watched as green notes were drawn out, the stocky man coming to take the bag with undisguised wonder. American dollars. They would be worth a fortune.

Thor grew closer to the stage as a sort of debate broke out.

"Backstage," the American insisted. "I paid more than you're worth."

"You'll have to wait for me to finish with these gentlemen and prepare. I wasn't expecting such a generous offer."

"I'll wait all night if that's what it takes."

"Mmm, well, let's hope your stamina is as impressive as your patience."

He spoke excellent German. Perhaps he had prepared for this meeting specially. The man ripped away the remaining notes to cheers, spinning the Magpie round to show him off before pulling him close, plundering his mouth as his hands roamed all over his flesh, even reaching down between...

Thor's gaze met the Magpie's and he saw the change in him. The recognition. The widening of his eyes even while he was being so ably distracted, the sudden transformation that he couldn't deny.

"Loki?"

"Mmph!"

It was like waking from a disturbing dream, a horrible jerk into reality. Wonder became horror and Thor leapt onto the stage, tearing his coat off and shoving the American away.

"Cover yourself. For God's sake..."

"Thor, no... No, stop, it's alright."

"It's not alright!"

"The fuck is this?" the highest bidder asked. "Have we upset a former favourite?"

Laughter. Thor watched as Loki laughed too, smoothing his hair back, haphazardly wrapped in Thor's old uniform.

"Of course not," he purred. "He's not my boyfriend."

He reached for Thor, tenderly touching his face, the rough beard there, like he was trying to bridge the years that had separated them. He looked so surprised, his face open and shocked. Seeing a ghost. But he looked tired as well, small almost despite his height, leaning closer as if to get a closer look, to prove it to himself that what he was seeing was true.

Thor realised his intentions a second too late. His lips were parted to speak, to reassure and comfort, when a tongue pushed inside. He was too stunned to protest about the theatrical moans vibrating against his mouth before Loki ended it and looked back to the crowd triumphantly.

"He's my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the American is not Steve. I realised after writing it that assumptions could be made. Not Steve. Just a man.
> 
> (Also some explanation of my logic behind Loki's million ~~dollar~~ Mark outfit can be found in the comments.)


	7. Chapter 7

There were whoops and cheers from the crowd, yells which Thor's stunned ears finally deciphered as suggestions for depraved and disgusting acts they might do together. Loki shook his head and tossed his hair, laughing at them.

"Now, come along, you know I never do anything for free. You'd have to rob a bank for me to show you how my brother touches me."

What on earth was he talking about? Thor wanted to protest, to deny these things. He had never touched Loki with anything more than brotherly affection. He couldn't even think of an act from their childhood that might be misremembered or misconstrued. He had _never..._

He suddenly realised that Loki's smile was not reaching his eyes. He looked panicked, frightened as he turned to his assistant and whispered something. Thor found himself firmly escorted backstage, past other performers waiting idly in the wings and taken up several flights of stairs to an attic room.

"He wants you to stay here," the man said. "He'll come up soon."

With that, he was abandoned.

It was small, dominated by a bed just big enough for two against one wall. There were newspapers liberally strewn about the place, a pair of scissors sitting on top of a pile of pictures clipped from them. More decorated the walls, images of far-off countries, advertisements for films and plays. A full length mirror, dressing table, wash basin, razor... Was this where Loki lived?

Thor went to the window and pushed it open. He wanted to get rid of the smell of tobacco smoke from his lungs, needed the city air that passed for fresh. It was raining now, the heavy drops bouncing from neighbouring roofs and sending a dull wall of noise over everything. Good. That was what he needed. A found to fill his mind and stop his racing thoughts.

His mouth felt dirty. Soiled and awful, the taste of whisky mingling with the memory of Loki's lips against his, of kissing in a way that disturbed him to his very core. He felt sick with it, a horrible heavy weight in his stomach.

And yet the performance was so very Loki. He loved to joke, loved to make a mockery of everything just for the fun of it. Of course he would turn the art of commerce on its head 'paying' his clients for gifts with notes that were hardly worth anything at all. Irreverent and sacreligious. Finding a bitter humour in the economic misery facing so many.

What was Loki doing with those men downstairs?

He could guess, but he didn't want to think about it, holding his hand out of the window to catch a little rain, trying to wash his mouth out with it.

"Knock, knock."

He turned to find Lewis in the doorway, concern badly hidden beneath a smile. She stepped inside, managing to find a rickety chair underneath a pile of shirts and settling onto it.

"Bit of a shock?" she asked.

Thor didn't reply. He didn't know what to say.

"At least I know where I know you from," she said, pointing to the table with the shaving basin.

Thor obediently looked, finding a small framed picture there. Mother and Father in their Sunday finery, looking proud and proper, himself and Loki stood between them like statues. He remembered this. The only family picture they had, taken by a visiting photographer who was plying his trade in a dark tent from village to village. He was eighteen in it. Loki was fourteen.

Around eighteen months later, he'd signed up for the war.

He looked into the thoughtful face of his brother as he remembered him and tried to reconcile that boy with the teasing Magpie downstairs.

"I hadn't seen him for eight years," he said vaguely. "I've been looking for him but..."

"But you'd never thought to look here."

Of course he hadn't. Of all the things he had imagined Loki doing, of all the ways he considered that money could be made, he had never so much as considered this. Stupid, really. A young man without money and as handsome as Loki had grown? It was a common story.

"It's not so bad, you know," Lewis said. "He's very exclusive. And a lot of his clients are foreigners so he makes far above market rate..."

"Please, don't. I don't want to hear about it."

She looked at him with a faint trace of amusement.

"Well, he's not exactly shy. I'm not sure you'll be able to avoid the details. Still, a good haul tonight. He won't be up on stage again for a while. Got to keep himself scarce and in demand."

He couldn't bear this. The way she talked about him, like a commodity and not a person. It was too awful. He had many questions, but he wanted to ask them of Loki. In private.

Fortunately, when he arrived out of breath and with tangled hair around twenty minutes later, privacy seemed to be what Loki wanted as well.


	8. Chapter 8

Thor tried not to look. Loki's skin was shiny with sweat, pink from exertion, his lips slightly swollen.

"You're here," he panted. "God, you're really here. You're alive."

His eyes were huge, wet but hopeful as he grabbed a shirt from the pile, pulling it on along with some crumpled trousers, ushering Lewis out and closing the door before sitting on the bed with a nervous smile.

"You weren't supposed to see me like that," he said. "Ever. I'm sorry."

Thor suddenly didn't know what to say. He had imagined meeting Loki, embracing him with such affection, but after what had happened, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to touch him at all.

"You kissed me."

Loki sighed, squirming a little. Visibly uncomfortable.

"You interrupted my show. I had to cover up how surprised I was. And they like me filthy, they like the promise of perversion. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

He was so used to it. He was so accustomed to thinking of himself like... Like meat, like an object to be sold. He must have been doing this for so long, allowing himself to be purchased.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Thor. It's nothing. It's just a living. You don't have to act like I'm hurt or anything. Most of the time, I even enjoy it."

"Stop," Thor said. "Please, stop."

Loki looked at him curiously.

"I wouldn't have expected to see you in a place like this," he said. "Did you get a taste for it at the Front? I hear a lot of soldiers got their first experience of cock there. Is that what delayed you so much? Some pretty private kept you away from home?"

Thor felt his cheeks heat. This was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He knew Loki had been angry about his decision to leave, but he was so combative and accusative. Like he thought Thor had had a choice in the matter.

"I was a prisoner. Forced labour for years. I only made it home a few months ago. Sif told me you were in Berlin so I came north to find you."

Loki laughed, that same warm laugh that he'd been looking for.

"You just... came looking for me? Oh, darling. Never change. Still, it's positively miraculous that of all the cabarets you find mine on a night I'm performing publicly. Usually I have to be booked in advance. What were you looking for here I wonder?"

"I wasn't here for... For anything. I came with that girl, Lewis. I helped her with a bit of trouble."

"Well. Then isn't fate interesting?"

It was like meeting a stranger. Thor rubbed his temples, not sure how to proceed. He had to get Loki out of here, that was for sure. They should go home, find work there, get away from those men and their grasping hands. Then he'd go back to normal, surely.

A knock on the door. The man from the stage, the assistant.

"Tub's ready. Dinner'll be after dawn. Is your friend staying?"

"Brother," Loki said. "And yes. Take it out of my share."

"You've earned more than everyone else put together tonight. I think you're owed another meal."

Loki got up, grunting a little. Not hurt? Thor somehow doubted that. He wasn't even walking normally, a distinct limp dogging his steps.

"Stay here," Loki said. "Sleep. You look like death."

Thor once again found himself alone. He was exhausted, heart sore, stunned and shocked. He awkwardly lay down on Loki's bed, surprised at how soft it was. Or maybe he just didn't remember how beds were supposed to be. He hadn't slept on one for so long.

He must have slept, a thankfully dreamless rest, for Loki woke him by clambering in next to him.

"What're you doing?"

"Hush. Go back to sleep. It's just for a few hours."

His hair was damp and Thor instinctively moved away from him, right up against the wall to ensure as much space between them as possible.


	9. Chapter 9

When he woke, Loki was calmly sitting on the floor, sorting jewellery into three small piles. He looked far more like the brother Thor remembered, hair neatly tied back, looking pensive as he concentrated. Thin sunlight was coming in through the window, a faint smell of...

Chicken?

"You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you for food, so I brought it up to you."

Thor could feel his mouth watering as he sat up, finding a plate on the chair by the bed. Chicken, little boiled potatoes, cabbage. Far better than he normally saw. Gone cold, but delicious all the same. He wolfed it down, seeing Loki smile at him.

"I am sorry about what happened," he said, apparently sincere. "I was shocked. I wasn't thinking. It must be a big adjustment to be back."

He was being so reasonable. Suspiciously so. Thor tried to slow down, tried to think more carefully. He needed to be more awake if he was going to convince Loki to go home. To do that, he was going to have to understand why he was doing this in the first place.

And he wasn't ready to talk about that kind of thing just yet.

"What are you doing?" he asked instead.

Loki pointed to each of his piles in turn.

"Pawn shop, sell for scrap, keep for later."

The last pile was also the smallest. Most pieces in it were showy, gaudy. Thor was hardly an expert, but they weren't the items he would have chosen.

"How do you decide what's what?"

"Pretty and valuable gets pawned. Heavy and ugly gets sold. Shiny and worthless I keep for set dressing."

Thor looked at them dubiously.

"I don't understand."

Loki stood up, smoothing his clothes. They were tailored but old, nothing like the tatty outfit he had pulled on last night. Thor wondered if he was trying to impress him.

"Come on," he said, picking up the trinkets. "I'll show you. And then we can get you cleaned up. When did you last see yourself?"

Thor didn't bother responding to that, but obediently got up and followed Loki downstairs. He thought they were going back out to the stage, but then Loki turned sharply through a door immediately to the right of it into a small room.

"My Nest," Loki said, waving a hand vaguely. "Or rather the Magpie's Nest."

Thor stared. It was like a treasure room. Jewels shimmered from every surface, mirrors reflecting them to seem like there were even more. In the centre was a bed, covered in red velvet. This was a boudoir. It couldn't have been more different from the room Loki actually slept in.

He scattered the new items haphazardly across little tables, brushing off his hands afterwards.

Thor couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. This was it, the room where Loki took his men. How many men? How often? How much money did he actually see of what he earned? Or did it all go elsewhere? To some kind of controller, perhaps?

"It's a fantasy, you see. They want me greedy, insatiable, decadent..."

"I don't want to know. We're getting out of here."

Loki took a step back.

"We are, are we? And when exactly were you going to ask my opinion of this plan?"

Thor stared at him.

"Well... You can't want to stay here, letting all those strangers touch you like that."

"Has it entered your head that maybe I _like_ letting strangers touch me? That maybe I enjoy it?"

"I don't believe that."

Loki huffed, folding his arms.

"I knew you'd be like this. You want me to go back to the village, don't you, work my fingers to the bone on the farm, for nothing? I make thousands of Marks every day just for lying on my back."

"Then why do you live in a draughty attic? If you make so much, where does it all go? Who takes your thousands? Who gets the money from the pawn shop?"

"Where have you been, Thor? Money is practically useless."

"Then why bother?"

He was yelling now, angry. How could Loki do this? And lie about it? There was definitely something he wasn't saying here.

"I said practically. It can still open doors. I make money for the cabaret and in return I get regular food, a warm place to sleep, my own room, Clint watching out for me, all the drink I can swallow... What do you have, Thor?"

"Self-respect?"

"Oh, spare me."

He was _lying._ He had to be. This didn't make sense.

"This isn't you," Thor said. "This is not who you are."

"And how would you know? I was a child when you left us, when you walked towards almost certain death. I've grown up. I had to because _you_ left me to deal with everything that came afterwards. I'm not that little boy who always followed you around anymore."

"No, apparently you're a whore."

Loki slapped him hard across the face. Thor was stunned for a moment and then growled, grabbing onto both of Loki's wrists and shoving him backwards. They hit the bed, slapping each other haphazardly, Loki getting in the occasional kick.

"Thor, stop it. Get off."

"Come home."

It was like the fight left Loki suddenly. He stopped struggling and looked up at Thor's face, open and honest.

"I am home."

Thor's heart ached, a horrible pain spreading through him even as he realised he was lying on top of his little brother on the bed he worked on. He rolled off, trying not to make his discomfort too clear.

"I'm working towards freedom," Loki said softly, gazing at the ceiling. "It's not as bad as you think."

"Freedom from what? From who?"

A gentle sigh and Loki rolled over to look at him.

"I don't know if I can tell you yet. I don't know if I can trust you."

Thor could only blink at him. Couldn't trust him? Why not?

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"What happened to you?" Loki countered.

Thor looked away. He couldn't talk about that. Not yet.

"Exactly," Loki said.

He rolled onto his stomach, idly tracing patterns into the grain of the velvet.

"Stay with me. I know you don't like the idea, but... I can provide for you. A bed, food. Let me look after you. You're clearly not taking care of yourself."

Thor hesitated. He didn't want to stay here.

But maybe if he did, he could convince Loki to leave. Or at least find out how he had come down this path.

"I don't want to... to live off your body."

Loki hummed slightly.

"I'm sure there's something you could do around here. I know Clint's always looking for a second pair of hands."

Maybe it was the only way to save him.

"Alright," he said. "I'll try."

A moment passed before Loki shuffled sideways and flopped an arm awkwardly around Thor's middle.

"You never know. You might like it."

Thor wished he could believe that.


	10. Chapter 10

"Am I interrupting something intimate?"

Thor looked up to find Loki's assistant in the doorway.

"Don't be disgusting, Clint," Loki said. "We were just talking."

"Does the velvet need changed?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. No, we didn't... It doesn't need changed."

Thor threw his arm over his eyes. Clearly the velvet was usually soiled by God knew what. But last night it wasn't for some reason. He was not thinking about why that might be the case. He was not...

"You're remembering your booking today?"

"Of course. I'll be ready for him. He likes fur. I still have a nice sable upstairs, hardly moth-eaten at all."

He rolled over and sat up, grunting as he stretched.

"Can you clean up my brother while I'm working? Trim his beard, get him some clothes from this decade? And find him something to do. He likes to be useful, don't you, darling?"

Thor frowned, not that anyone could see it.

"Don't call me that. I don't like it. You never used to."

He heard Loki sigh as he stood up, the bed shifting under him at the weight change, and finally looked. Loki was watching him strangely, a little sad perhaps.

"Sorry. Habit. I call pretty much everyone darling. But I suppose... Well, you're not exactly everyone."

No. No, he probably wasn't. He watched as Loki wandered out, leaving his assistant - Clint - in the doorway.

"I really don't think you want to stay here all day," he said. "It'll be occupied pretty soon. Come on. I'll heat up some water for you."

Hot water. That did sound heavenly. He hadn't had a hot bath in... Well, in far, far too long.

He followed through the back of the building to a kind of enclosed yard, helping with the heavy water pump. He was aware of a certain degree of interest from a few windows above, women looking down at him.

"Thor! Hi!"

He squinted up and saw Lewis, waving uncertainly at her. She must live here too. He wondered how much she might know about Loki. Maybe she could give him some of the answers he needed. But he'd have to tread carefully. Loki probably wouldn't like him poking around in his business.

"Met Darcy already?" Clint asked. "Be careful. Nice girl, but she bites."

"She said her name was Lewis."

"Yeah, I heard she was trying to make that stick."

He seemed friendly enough. Between them, they filled and heated several kettles of water to fill a large copper tub in a sort of kitchen at the back of the building.

"I'll leave you to it. Be right behind the door though. Make sure none of the girls wander in accidentally."

A bath. It was amazing, the water turning his skin pink instantly with its warmth, relaxing all his muscles. Or what was left of them.

There was soap helpfully placed nearby, a well worn bar and Thor soon found out why as he struggled to get it into a lather to wash properly.

When they were children, he'd hated baths. Loki loved them, the feeling of being immersed in water and shiny new afterwards. They had a tin bath which lay in front of the range for maximum warmth. Shared bath water, of course. They were not poor, but the best way to make sure they didn't become so was not to waste things. He always let Loki go first and enjoy the fresh water. He seemed to really appreciate it.

The soap smelled familiar and he realised it was the one Loki must have used the night before, what he smelled of when he crawled into bed.

They did that as children too sometimes, shared a bed. It hadn't seemed so strange then. Even when he was starting to feel more grown and wanting a little more privacy around thirteen or fourteen, he didn't mind it if Loki wanted to climb in with him. It was warmer in winter, for sure. Even in summer, he didn't mind getting nudged to roll over so all Loki's angles could squeeze in next to him.

It hadn't ever given him such a horrible sickly feeling like last night had.

He sighed, steam rising around his body, not ready to get out yet.

He should try to be logical about this. What was giving him that sick feeling? The kiss. He'd been shocked and stunned by it. But that had been nothing. It meant nothing.

That man on the stage hadn't been Loki, but the Magpie. He'd been giving the crowd what they wanted. It didn't signal any change about them, or certainly didn't have to.

And as for his reservations about Loki's life here, was he really going to reject and push his brother away for something he didn't fully understand yet? Loki did not want to tell him what had happened to him during the years that had separated them, but neither did he. That was only fair. Perhaps they had both done things they were ashamed of or regretted.

Perhaps they had both had no choice.

No, he was decided now. Loki was a victim here, he had to be. And so clearly the best thing he could do was show Loki that their brotherhood was not affected by this. He would try his best not to judge, not to make assumptions.

And somehow, he would get Loki out of here.


	11. Chapter 11

Clint had sent Lewis to rustle up some clothes for him and Thor was simultaneously impressed and slightly horrified by what she had brought back from the flea market. The shirt was fine, ordinary if rather heavy material, but the trousers were decidedly too loose on his starved waist.

But she'd thought of that.

Thor eyed the braces suspiciously. Red. Where had she even got red braces? They held everything up, but the way she immediately used one to snap against his nipple made him almost consider reclaiming his old uniform.

"I'll have your coat washed," Clint said. "Loki doesn't want it thrown out. Says it suits you."

Strange. He'd have expected that Loki would want all traces of the war and his perceived abandonment got rid of.

He'd been so upset when Thor signed up for the army. He could still remember his little face at the dinner table, mouth open in shock after Thor produced his enlistment papers, his usually pale complexion suddenly completely devoid of colour. He'd pushed his plate away and fled, feet pounding the stairs as he ran up and slammed the door of their room shut.

For Thor, it had seemed like an opportunity. There had always been a vague assumption that he would inherit the house and the farm tenancy, but where would that leave Loki? He was smart, sharp enough to cut himself, but though they weren't poor, they weren't rich either. They couldn't afford to send Loki to any kind of schooling other than the one in the village.

And so signing up had seemed like a good idea. The military was a fine career. The war would soon be over and Thor had imagined himself being stationed all over the world, seeing beautiful places, meeting unusual people, getting medals. He'd climb the ranks and make his fortune. Mother would be so proud of his smart uniform, and Loki could live happily in the old house, playing his piano to a wife perhaps, maybe even children.

He'd thought the whole family would be proud of him. 

Instead, he'd gone upstairs to find Loki face down on his bed, sobbing like his world had just ended. Thor hadn't known what to say, just sat down on the end of the mattress and waited until his crying subsided.

"Come on," he'd said. "Come back downstairs. There's pudding waiting with your name on it."

"Don't want any."

"What?! No _pudding?_ You'll waste away, Lokes. I'll come back and find a skeleton where my little brother used to be..."

 _"If_ you come back."

And then he'd turned over, face streaked with tears.

"Don't go," he'd whispered. "You'll die."

"No, I won't. I promise."

"You can't promise that! Don't you see? They need more men to fight because they all keep dying. You think you're going to be so brave and courageous, but you're just going to be dead. How could you even be so stupid?"

He'd been furious with Thor from then until the day he left, refusing to come down and say goodbye but finally chasing him to the edge of the village, barrelling into him for one more hug. Thor had squeezed hard, trying to reassure him one last time. Like if he hugged him tightly enough, it would tide him over until he returned.

"Promise you'll come back?"

"I promise."

He'd felt the nod somewhere around the middle of his chest, a little damp patch marking his shirt when Loki drew away, sniffling.

"I'll be back before you know it. Honest. Look after Mother for me."

It seemed several lifetimes ago now. And dwelling on the past would only hurt. He ought to concentrate on the present and then the future.

"So how long have you been working for Loki?" Thor asked, gratefully combing his hair back after trimming his beard into something vaguely resembling an actual style.

"For Loki?" Clint laughed. "That's a good one. Sure, I mind him most of the time, but I don't work for him. He's just currently the most valuable performer. And the most troublesome. Gets away with murder. It must be about two years since the Magpie first fluttered onto stage here, fully fledged. Be in '21, I think. Where Loki was before then, I'm not sure. I don't tend to ask. They like that."

"Who does?"

"Every sorry soul who ends up here."

He was cutting Thor's hair for him, tufts like little gold rags falling to the tiled floor.

"Are you telling me to mind my own business?"

"No. I'm just saying that if Loki matters to you as much as he seems to then you should try to be gentle with him. He's like china. Up close... sometimes you see the cracks."

Thor felt a rush of anger, of rage, scowling down at his own fists where they rested on his thighs.

If Loki was cracked, that suggested someone had broken him. Whether deliberately or not, he was determined to find out who and how and why.

Even if he would have to walk on eggshells to get his answers.


	12. Chapter 12

He tried to make himself useful for the rest of the day, essentially following Clint around as he fetched laundry from the heights of the building and collected glasses from behind the bar and from the tables. From what he gathered, there were actually few permanent residents. The rest rented rooms and performed on a more freelance basis.

He was a little surprised that Lewis actually lived in the building. She didn't seem to have any role in the cabaret itself, but she insisted on 'supervising' as Thor mopped the stage. She'd washed her face, looking painfully young now without her make-up. Younger than Loki certainly. How long had she been in this business? Thor wanted to ask, but he thought it might seem rude.

"I don't understand how they can do it up here, with so many people looking," she said. "I get nervous with too many eyes watching me. I seize up. At least outside you can find a quiet back alley or something."

Thor sloshed more suds around, trying to keep his face neutral. This was a new paradigm, nothing more. It was a way people fed and clothed themselves and that was all. There was nothing wrong with it, so long as they wanted to do it.

But if he knew all that, why was his stomach still turned by the mere thought?

"You don't bring... people back to your room for more privacy?" he asked.

Maybe talking about it would make it seem more normal.

"No. My room is my room and work is work. Oil and water. No mixing. I could use one of the other beds, I suppose, but of course, that would cost me."

Thor frowned. He was making patterns in the water, carefully straight lines like men on parade and then zigzagging through them at random. It wasn't really cleaning, but then again, it was soothing him somehow.

"Does it cost Loki?"

"Oh, him especially. It's permanent, you see. No one else can use the Nest. On days when he's not booked, that room is useless. But he says he needs it to remain just so to sell the fantasy and, well, it pays a lot when he does have clients. I know there's some talk that he ought to do house calls, but I severely doubt he'd want to. He's in control in there, no matter what they think."

"So how often...?"

He let his voice trail off. Unable to voice his question.

"Clients or performing?"

"Both."

"Clients vary, but he goes on stage about twice a month," she said. "Infrequently enough to drive demand but often enough to make sure he doesn't miss any wealthy visitors who might want a private meeting."

"And why do they pay so much for him?"

"Why do you think?" Loki's voice from behind him, swishing past in a blur of white fluff, flopping down on the chaise that had been moved aside for mopping. "Because I'm the best."

He stretched, pointing his bare toes and his fingers, lengthening his entire body and sighing with it.

"New coat?" Lewis asked.

"Mmm. A present. I've put the old one out for processing already so you'll have to bargain for it if you want it."

"How was he?"

Thor saw Loki glance at him and hurriedly got back to his work, like he wasn't listening to their conversation.

"Same old shit. Tease, tease, tease and then the chain gets yanked and you're reminded where you stand. He's sleeping it off in the Nest now, but he'll probably surface in time for the main show. Asked me to run away and live with him for about the seventeenth time. Rather ruined the romance by getting come in my eye though."

"I hate it when they do that."

Thor picked up his bucket and began walking back through the building, wanting to tip the dirty water out in the yard. He heard the footsteps coming and didn't turn round.

"So that's it?" Loki said. "Can't even sit through one little discussion of what I do for a living?"

"I'm working."

"This is my life, Thor. This is my reality, whether you like it or not."

Thor stopped, turning round to look his little brother in the eye, the damp marks from where he'd walked across the wet floor trailing behind him, the fur coat bulking out his frame. This was important. If he was going to regain Loki's trust, he had to show that he could get past this.

Even if he wasn't sure himself whether he could.

"I know it is. I accept that. But I was given a task and now I need another one. Excuse me."

"So you're happy to sleep in the same bed as me?"

His natural reaction was repulsion. He didn't want to, not again, not while he was still so tentative about this whole world and about Loki's place in it. But he couldn't show that.

Besides, renting another bed would surely cost Loki more money...

"Of course," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Loki's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He didn't trust this. Thor couldn't blame him. Finally he shrugged off his coat and thrust it at him.

"Here. A task. I need this washed, carefully, and dried flat. Do not let Clint mangle it. He ruined my last one."

He wallked away towards the stairs nude and Thor knew it was a test. He threw the fur over his shoulder and headed off again, not even giving Loki the satisfaction of looking back.

He'd get there. They would meet again, their souls would come back together.

Everything would be fine.

He wandered into the kitchen, finding Clint washing out glasses and tipping out ashtrays into a neat pile.

"How do I clean fur safely?"

"I'll do it once I'm done here..."

"No. No, he wants me to do it. And he said I wasn't to let you mangle it like you did his last one."

Clint shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"I had to mangle it. It wouldn't dry. It was going mouldy."

Thor snorted.

"I'll find a way," he said. "As long as you can give me pointers on how to begin."

"Then, welcome to your first lesson in how to get spunk out of everything."

Thor forced a smile.

There wasn't much else he could do.


	13. Chapter 13

It was strangely comforting, washing away all evidence of Loki's encounter. Like he could wash away the reality of it too.

Lewis went out as soon as it got dark, waving him a cheery goodbye, face caked in make-up again. It was almost like she was two different people, one by day and another by night.

And since it was evening, the performances were due to begin. Thor busied himself with some particularly vigorous scrubbing and Clint left him to it without question, pulling Loki's client from the Nest and helping him through to the front of house.

Thor heard the light skipping of fleet feet behind him that then stopped immediately in the doorway.

"Not watching the show?" Loki asked.

Thor looked round. Loki was dressed, at least, hair loosely scraped back. He could almost ignore the little bruise mark the style revealed on his neck. A harsh grip? Or had it been sucked onto his skin?

Thor squeezed a little more water from the fur coat. He was trying to be gentle and careful with it, not to wring it out or damage it in any way, but it was slow going.

"No. Too busy. Quite glad I can't hear it back here, actually."

"In case you were tempted?"

Thor shrugged. He wasn't going to admit that he couldn't reconcile his lust with his revulsion of the whole set up. Yes, he was curious, but he couldn't help but feel strange about it.

"You watch it then?" he asked mildly. "I'd have thought it would cause a riot if you went out front."

Loki giggled - a definite giggle - standing on tiptoe to retrieve a bottle from the back of a high cupboard. He still hadn't put on any shoes, or socks for that matter.

"Probably would. No, I sit in the wings when the urge strikes. Not tonight though. I'd much rather stay here with you."

It wasn't a question as such, but Thor couldn't help but feel he was asking permission to stay and talk with him.

"So what do you do all day when you don't have bookings?"

Safe. A question about something other than the actual acts. Loki clearly recognised it as such, taking a swig of whatever was in his bottle.

"Not much," he said. "I read a lot. Someone usually brings me the newspaper and books come in from time to time. Rest and recuperation. Gentle exercise to keep myself beautiful. And then mostly annoying Clint all day."

"You don't go out?"

"Not often. I can only go out with a chaperone and people tend to be too busy."

Thor frowned a little at that. The way he spoke... Like he wasn't allowed out. Like he was a prisoner here, a bird in a cage.

He squeezed the second sleeve out completely, Loki's eyes marking the steady process of his hands, mouth falling open.

"Your fingers!"

"Oh. Yeah... I lost them."

Such a stupid phrase. Like he'd put them down somewhere and forgotten where they were.

Loki put his bottle down on the table hard and seized his wrist, getting a closer look at the stumps.

"Were you shot?" he asked, voice tinged with horror. "Did they get shot off?"

"Nothing as dramatic as all that. I just got frostbitten. The flesh died so... They had to get cut away before they got infected."

He remembered the look on Fandral's face as he did it. The way he kept apologising as he snapped the finger bones and hacked through the flesh, using a burning stick from their meagre fire to cauterise the wound as best he could.

But of course, he tried not to think about Fandral these days. Any of them, but especially not...

Loki distracted him by kissing the scar, like he could make it better that way. Their mother used to do that, kissing health back into skinned knees or paper cuts.

It was unexpectedly pleasant but Loki seemed a little embarrassed to have been caught being sweet, hurriedly drawing away.

"How are you going to dry my coat, then?" he asked, an obvious change of subject.

"Squeeze as much water out by hand, then I thought I'd try to get it as close as possible to the range. Try to steam the rest out of it."

"Will it be dry by tomorrow?"

"He's coming back so soon?"

After all, surely the only reason he could have for such an impractical garment was to wear it for the man who'd bought it for him. To demonstrate his affection for the gift.

"No, but I thought I might wear it if you took me out."

He said it so nonchalantly, like it didn't matter, but Thor knew that tone. The voice that Loki used to use when he said he didn't mind at all who had the last biscuit, but which Thor knew from experience meant he did mind and would therefore be extremely pleased if he was given it.

He wanted to go out, wearing his fancy furs, show off a little perhaps. Or at least get a bit of fresh air. How long had it been since he last went outside?

"Of course," Thor said, getting the last bit of liquid he could out of the coat. "I'll be nice to take a bit of a walk. You can show me the neighbourhood."

He draped the coat over the back of a chair, letting it drip a little onto the floor and pushed it close to the range, hoping it would dry quickly enough in the heat.

"We'll go in the morning, after dinner," Loki said.

"Do you always eat then?"

A chuckle and another mouthful from the bottle.

"It's topsy-turvy, but you get used to it. The freshest food comes in first thing in the morning anyway. Work, nap, work, nap. It's not a bad life."

He jammed the cork back into the bottle and carefully replaced it on the shelf.

"But don't tell Clint I'm drinking the good stuff."

Thor couldn't help but laugh.

Loki always had had a taste for things he wasn't supposed to.


	14. Chapter 14

"Clint, where are my shoes?"

Thor jerked awake. He'd not had the best sleep of his life. He'd slid in next to the wall and felt trapped as Loki clambered in next to him, despite the fun they'd had all evening while the performance was on. Loki had shown him where all the forbidden things were hidden. Good soap, real butter, fruit preserve. They couldn't take too much, but even half a spoonful of gooseberry jam tasted like heaven, the pair of them grinning like naughty children.

"Who is this for, if not you?" Thor had asked. "Why have nice things if the residents don't get to taste them?"

"We get a little from time to time," Loki said. "But sometimes guests want to eat. Only the best stuff here. Or the boss shows up and wants all the house can offer."

"The boss?"

Loki smirked and tapped him on the nose.

"Uh-uh. Not yet."

Thor backed off. Gently. Baby steps.

And then he'd ended up staring at the ceiling, trying to get comfortable without moving, afraid of disturbing Loki as he slept peacefully beside him. It had taken hours to fall asleep. No wonder he'd slept late then.

At least he hadn't had any nightmares since coming here. Either he felt safe or he was too exhausted for them.

Clint appeared in the doorway, yawning. He seemed to live in the room opposite. Maybe it wasn't so early then, if he was still asleep. Thor had almost wondered if he ever went to bed.

"They're in your Nest."

"No, not Magpie shoes, _my_ shoes. I need them."

"Why?"

"Because Thor and I are going out today and I want to be able to actually walk and so I need shoes that fit me, not pretty sets of stilts."

Clint barked out a laugh, though it didn't seem like he found it remotely funny.

"Going out, huh? By yourself? You know you can't do that."

"Not by myself, with Thor."

"Uh-huh? And when you two run away with your debts unpaid, whose neck is on the line, Loki? Who takes the fall for you? I sincerely hope you're not leaving me high and dry."

"I'll come back, you can trust me."

"Ah, yes, because you're so very trustworthy."

Thor wished he understood the looks exchanged, a little war that seemed to go on. Loki was cross now, arms folded defensively, and he'd surely be worse when he realised that one of his secrets had just been overheard.

Debts. That's why he was doing this. He owed someone, presumably the boss he had mentioned, and that's why he was compelled to sell himself. Clint, for all his apparent affability, was essentially his jailer. They were keeping him here. The high walls of the yard, the guarded door, those were by design to trap him.

He heard the change in Loki's tone, how it went sweeter, more pleading.

"You know I wouldn't do that to you," he said. "I wouldn't. But I get so antsy cooped up in here. I just want to go outside, take a little walk, and then come straight back. I promise."

"Ugh, save it, Loki. The pouty little puppy act might work on clients, but it doesn't work on me."

"Doesn't it? I seem to remember it having an effect."

"Put it down to acquired immunity then."

Thor could only watch as Loki visibly sagged.

"Please," he said. "I'm wilting in here. I just want to go out. I need air, I need..."

He sighed heavily and Clint, while still suspicious, seemed to relent a little.

"Give me something for security. Something valuable to you and that you actually own."

Thor hurriedly closed his eyes, pretending to still be sleeping as he heard Loki rattle around, pause, and then retrace his steps.

"Here," he said.

Thor couldn't see what he handed over, but he did see Clint's reaction to it. He seemed almost shocked. Whatever Loki had given him must be extremely precious.

"Alright," he said. "But you take Darcy with you. And if you're not back in two hours..."

"Three. Come on, please."

A huff.

"Fine. Three, but you have to wake Darcy up. I take no responsibility for any injuries you might sustain while trying."

Loki leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, darling. Now, shoes?"

"I'll bring them down after dinner. Which is still two hours away from even being started. Back to bed with you."

Thor found himself grunting as Loki flopped back down beside him, not even remotely concerned about waking him up.

Worse, possibly, was the way he requisitioned Thor's arm as a extra pillow, pulling it over so he could rest his his head on it.

"We're all sorted for going out," he announced.

"Didn't know you needed permission," Thor murmured, eyes closed as if clinging to sleep.

He could feel as Loki shifted uncomfortably though.

"Well, Clint keeps track of all my bookings. I had to be sure I was free today."

Liar... Still, Thor didn't want to question him about it. They had a few hours of freedom scheduled and he had no interest in spoiling them by bringing up anything that Loki was uncomfortable with.

"What's the plan, then?" he asked.

Loki giggled, like a child loose in a sweet shop.

"I'm going to take you to see a film."

Thor couldn't deny being intrigued. He'd never actually been to see a film, not in a real cinema. There had been the odd projected reel in the church hall back in the village, but that tended to be documentaries or news reels. He got the distinct impression that this would be very different.

"In the middle of the day? I though picture houses only opened at night."

"Usually, yes, but I have my connections. How does a private showing sound?"

Thor let out a breathy laugh and went back to sleep, finally with something to look forward to.

It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling.


	15. Chapter 15

Lewis groaned as though in intense physical pain when Loki woke her, burrowing under the blankets. Thor found himself turning his back in embarrassment when she sat up, her breasts bared below a look of utter fury. She seemed to calm down a little at the promise of a morning out and a film though, even if she was glowering into all three mugs of black acorn coffee.

The coat was not quite dry, but Loki insisted he wanted to wear it anyway.

"Wear your army jacket," he said. "It suits you."

What they must have looked like, Thor wondered, a veteran and two... Well, Loki in his furs and Lewis in one of the shortest dresses he'd ever seen.

People were definitely staring at him. If he had been with just one of them, even at this early hour, it would not have caused much concern, but being out with two people of different genders, both beautiful and with long dark hair? What strange games they must be imagining.

Loki took them on a long, meandering walk through many streets until he found someone loitering on a street corner, sidling up to him while Thor frowned. Who was this man and what did Loki want with him?

"Are you open for business?"

"Depends. I don't trade in favours."

"I don't either. What have you got?"

"Heroin, tranqs, coke..."

"I want chocolate."

The man blinked at him, laughing apparently out of shock.

"I'm not sure I know what that refers to."

"It's a sweet solid treat made from milk, sugar and cocoa. Know anyone who can get me that?"

Another laugh.

"Pay first and I'll get you some."

Loki reached into his coat and produced something shiny. Ah. No wonder he wanted such a large, bulky garment. He'd smuggled out the payment he would need for the next few hours.

"Real?"

"Yep. Deal?"

"Wait here."

Loki leant idly against the wall.

"So why do you want chocolate?" Thor asked.

"Because I like chocolate and I rarely get it, of course. Clint finds it extravagant."

"What if the seller doesn't come back?"

"He will. Otherwise I'll send an admirer to hunt him down for cheating me."

Thor was fairly sure that he wasn't joking and to be fair, it didn't take long for the man to return, producing a bar wrapped in foil from a hidden pocket.

They were off again, Loki leading the way through little streets before hammering on a door so neglected that Thor didn't even see it among the sooty brickwork.

"Victor? Victor!"

A man with a strangely pinched face opened the door, scarred, as if his skin had been burned off and put back on slightly incorrectly. He was probably a veteran too. A less lucky one.

"Loki?" he said. "Haven't seen you around for a while."

"Been busy. I want a showing for myself, my brother and my friend. Caligari."

Thor had no idea what was going on as Loki produced the longest string of pearls he'd ever seen from beneath the coat. Victor bit into one of them and based on that, seemed to deem it acceptable payment, ushering them in.

"The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, huh? You've seen it a hundred times."

"It's my favourite. And I know it so well that I can provide the music."

He had clearly been dreaming about this for some time. Loki swept through to the auditorium and took a seat at a battered old piano, playing a few chords to try it out. He snapped his chocolate into three approximately equal parts and insisted that Thor and Lewis take their seats.

"Have you seen this one before?" Thor asked her, struggling to feel his way along the rows of seats in the dark.

"Yeah. It's weird and scary. But the actors... Ah, what I wouldn't give for Conrad Veidt to wander into my patch one night."

Thor wasn't sure what he thought about the idea of watching something frightening as Victor began turning the reels, people appearing on the screen in strangely dreamlike ways. His eyes kept drifting to Loki though, the look of concentration be wore as he played, pausing in the quieter scenes to take little bites of chocolate, the light from the screen dancing on his face.

In another life, he might have done this professionally, made music for films. Thor always thought he was good enough to be a paid pianist, but Loki would always scoff and rant about dynamics and tone and hand independence and other terms Thor only vaguely understood.

The violence of the story shocked him, he couldn't deny it, the characters' silent screams seeming to pierce into his soul. He couldn't claim to understand it either, the strange make-up, the harsh angles seeming like something taken from nightmares.

He had never seen anything like this before. A film designed to provoke fear. He wasn't entirely sure that he liked it, or that he understood why Loki did.

By the time the reels were finished and being packed away, his heart was beating hard. The story had completely captivated him and Loki's discordant playing had only added to his unease.

"Did you like it?" Loki called up.

"I don't know," Thor said. "It's... different. And I didn't... The murders were too real."

Loki snorted.

"Thor, you were in the war. You must have seen lots of murders."

"But war is... War is different."

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

Loki shrugged, slipping his last piece of chocolate between his lips and pulling his coat back on.

"Come on," he said, voice slightly muffled. "We have time for a bit more walking before we have to be back."

Even out in the sunshine, with Loki wandering apparently without a single care on his shoulders, Thor couldn't get the film out of his head. It had disturbed him in a way he couldn't explain.

But more distressing than that was the realisation of what Loki had said to him.

That he considered him a murderer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, it is long out of copyright and readily available on YouTube.
> 
> Or for cultural crib-notes on it, I thoroughly recommend Mark Gatiss's excellent documentary on the history of horror films in mainland Europe, [Horror Europa.](http://youtu.be/brEzdZnoMzY) The section on Caligari starts at around 17:35.


	16. Chapter 16

"Nice walk?" Clint asked when they returned.

"Very nice, thank you. And see? Back safely."

Clint frowned slightly, reaching out to rub a smudge from Loki's face. He looked at the little stain suspiciously, licking it from his thumb.

"Now where did you get chocolate from? Surely you haven't been skimming from the profits?"

"Of course not. Darcy bought it as a little treat, that's all. And she's allowed to do what she likes with her money as long as she pays her rent."

A nod from Lewis seemed to pass muster. Interesting that she had lied for them. Perhaps there was some kind of honour code that Thor was unaware of.

"By the way, Thor," Clint said, turning back to the notes he was sorting through. "I'm putting you on the door tonight."

"The door?"

"Taking payment, getting rid of timewasters, taking bookings."

"For Loki?"

"Yeah. That alright?"

Thor glanced at Loki, who shrugged. Could he do this? Allow men to buy his little brother?

Then again, if he was in charge, he could choose who was allowed to book...

"Of course," he said. "I might have a bit of a sleep first though. Make sure that I'm alert for it. I was woken a little earlier than expected this morning."

Clint let out something that probably counted as a laugh as Thor headed up the stairs, Loki soon following him.

"Are you really comfortable with this?" he asked as Thor took off his coat and shoes, slipping the braces off as well.

"No. But if it has to be someone, I would rather it was me. I'll look out for you. And you can tell me who I ought to look out for. If there's any regulars you'd rather I put off or..."

Loki shrugged. 

"If they can pay, I don't much care."

Thor had nothing to say to that. Nothing that wouldn't sound horribly judgemental anyway. He lay down on top of the blankets, looking up at the ceiling in daylight for once.

An angry huff and Loki crossed his arms in Thor's peripheral vision.

"I knew you were lying," he said. "If you can't do it, just tell Clint no."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

Thor tried to find the best way to word it.

"You called me a murderer."

At least that seemed to take the wind out of Loki's sails. The bed dipped as he climbed onto it, his fur coat draped onto the chair.

"What are you talking about?"

This was getting dangerously close to things he didn't want to talk about. But if he didn't, he'd have to live with this ache in his chest...

"You said that people who die in war have been murdered, just the same as if they had been stabbed in their beds and I..."

Loki's eyes were wide, staring at him. Oh, if he knew the other things he'd done...

"You killed people? You personally? I didn't know that you... I mean, plenty of soldiers came back without ever firing their guns. How many?"

"What?"

"How many men did you kill?"

Thor turned to look at him, nostrils flared in anger.

"How many men have you fucked, Loki?"

Touché. Loki broke first, rolling onto his back.

"What did it feel like?"

Thor's stomach rolled.

"I don't know," he lied.

He couldn't admit how scared he'd been. The burn of the machine gun beneath his hands, the sight of those strangers being cut down by his actions. And so much more than that, he couldn't admit that to begin with, he'd had a real sense of triumph. He was good at it. He'd slaughtered dozens.

The first time he'd seen the injuries such weapons created, the slow, painful death they could cause... Suddenly he began to feel a creeping dread that had never quite left him. How many men had he left screaming and bleeding amongst the barbed wire? How many had he injured beyond recovery to slowly die in field hospital? How many men had prayed and begged and called for their mothers for actions he had...

War, he told himself. It was war. It didn't count, not like that.

"Don't know or won't say?"

Both. Loki didn't push it though.

"It's fine," he said. "I don't think you're one of those Lustmörders."

"Lust murderers? What's that?"

"People who kill for sexual pleasure."

Thor flinched away so hard that he hit his head against the wall. How could anyone...? And how did Loki...?

"Is that a risk you face?"

Loki laughed at him.

"No, my clientele appreciate me lively. We do have a performer who fakes it though. You should watch her some time. She has a kind of false noose that tightens around her neck, just not so much that she's in danger, and she lets someone from the crowd tighten it and fuck her limp body."

Horror seemed to spread through Thor's bones at the very thought.

"I don't think I'd like to see that."

"It's quite impressive."

Thor knew he was being teased and he didn't much like it, folding his arms.

"Oh, relax, Thor, she sits up at the end. Everyone knows she's fine. We're not attracting anyone really dangerous."

"I still think having no reaction from your partner would be horrible."

"Like them responsive, do you?"

Oh, he was not having this conversation. He was not letting Loki know the extent of his sexual experience, or lack of experience. He'd had one or two fumbles, but he wouldn't exactly call himself wordly and he had never...

"I like to know they're enjoying themselves."

It wasn't a lie. Whenever he imagined himself with someone in that way, he was always able to please them easily, getting warm kisses and smiles, moans and cries of ecstasy. That was what he wanted. A connection. A real sense that he and his partner understood one another.

No wonder he'd never found much pleasure in anonymous encounters. He wanted intimacy. Affection. Communion, for want of a better word.

"Why?" he asked, trying to change their focus. "How do you like them?"

Loki seemed to genuinely think about it. Then again, he probably didn't usually get much of a choice in the matter.

"I like it when they do what I say."


	17. Chapter 17

It wasn't the most difficult of roles. Take payment, let audience members in. Gently but firmly turn away anyone obviously too drunk or drugged. Despite his weight loss, he was still tall and relatively broad. He saw more than one man leave the line when they caught sight of him, too intimidated to risk the trouble.

One or two asked if the Magpie was performing, but didn't seem too surprised that he wasn't.

"Aren't you the brother?" one asked. "You interrupted the show last time."

He had to think fast. He had to play along with Loki's little lie. What could he say?

"I don't like it when men believe they have the right to treat him without proper respect."

That sounded plausible. A little possessive, a little bit too invested. He didn't have to add to Loki's myth, but he could be vague enough that clients could fill in whatever sordid details they wanted.

"So how much to book both of you at once? I wouldn't mind seeing him take a pounding from his own brother."

Rage burned in his heart, but he forced out a wry chuckle.

"I'm afraid that's simply not possible."

Not a lie, he reasoned. Just not true in the way it sounded.

Clint had given him a literal book that included all Loki's availabilities, but he had already decided that no matter what dates this man wanted, he would find them all mysteriously taken.

In fact, he decided against several men for various reasons. Too creepy, too dirty, seeming too strong, too impolite... He did allow some through. They had to fit a certain profile. They had to look as though Loki could overpower them easily if they tried anything untoward, they had to show him respect as the keeper of the book and show deference to Loki. Like they would treat him well. Like they would make an effort to please him as well as take their pleasure.

Not that Loki seemed very grateful for his care when he perused the list after the show was over.

"Hmm. A boring week ahead then," he said.

"How do you mean? You're going to be quite busy. I know there's a few days without sessions, but not many."

Loki sighed, running his finger dispassionately down the list of names.

"I know a lot of men, Thor, and none of these ones have any kind of spark. They're dull. And they fuck just as dully as they speak. It's terribly tiring, having to fake interest, you know."

"I thought they seemed nice," Thor said. "I was pleasantly surprised by how polite they were."

"Well, then you can entertain them and I shall have a nap. Besides, soft spoken and polite doesn't mean nice. I've only feared for my life once since coming here and it was a quiet man who did it."

Thor felt a shiver run up his spine. Who dared hurt his brother? He wanted a name, a description, a vague indication of whereabouts...

"Oh, relax, Thor. He's long dead now."

Something about the way he said it failed to calm Thor down. That and the fact that he was realising that no matter how careful he was, he couldn't guarantee his brother's safety. He didn't know these men, what they were like.

And if there was one thing he did know, it was that anyone could potentially be dangerous.

How could he keep Loki safe? He couldn't trust anyone else to do it, that was certain. Even Clint, while in theory concerned with Loki's wellbeing, was really caught up with the running of the cabaret. He didn't check who was coming in, what they might do...

"What precautions do you have in place?"

Loki snorted.

"Precautions? What, do you want to hear all about the oil and stretches I do?"

Thor felt himself flush, flustered just at the thought of it.

"No, but... But how do you know who's coming in? How do you know they won't hurt you?"

"Because anyone who hurt me would have to be suicidal. If they made it out of the building, which I doubt, they'd be hunted down. I'm too valuable to lose. That's what happened to that man. He hurt me too much and so the boss hurt him back."

"That's all very well for after the fact, but that won't help if someone's already killed you. I don't feel like it really makes you any safer. Someone might think they can get away with it and with Lustmörders about..."

Loki sighed fondly and took Thor's face in his hands, smiling beatifically.

"Well, if my big brother is so concerned about me, why doesn't he stand outside the Nest during my sessions and make absolutely sure that I am not being murdered?"

He finished his question with a playful tap to Thor's nose. He'd been drinking, that much was obvious. But Thor wasn't going to let him win so easily.

"Alright," he said. "Fine. I'll listen to every creak of the bed springs."

He expected Loki to laugh and say he was joking. He expected it all night, as they went to bed, the next morning over dinner, he kept expecting Loki to back down.

He didn't.

So Thor didn't either.


	18. Chapter 18

"Darling, I believe you've already met my brother?"

Thor scowled at the client, a middle-aged balding fellow, shifty eyes and a nervous smile. He'd seemed harmless last night, but now Thor wasn't so sure. Now he was seeing his clammy hand at Loki's waist, slipping up under his shirt. And the way he _kept looking at him._ Like he was a steak. Or a cake. Something delicious to be devoured. It made him want to call a halt immediately, banish this man who dared to think he could possess Loki and run away, hang the consequences.

Of course, Thor was angry anyway. Loki had found him a stiff chair to sit on, warning him that the session might be long, continually asking him to clarify exactly which noises Thor would consider 'safe' and which he'd find distressing, and generally making it his business to thoroughly irritate and annoy him all morning.

"He's a little jealous, you see," Loki was saying, big innocent eyes just making Thor's blood burn. "He doesn't like other men touching me. But I told him, he has to understand, one man could never keep up with what I need, not even with his stamina."

"Well, I... I hope I impress you," the man said.

"Oh, darling, you always do. My favourite hour of the month."

Thor practically growled as Loki pulled the man into the Nest by his belt loops, aware that he was only adding to Loki's game, but unable to stop himself. It might pass for jealousy, but it was more concern. He hated this, hated everything about it.

He wasn't even listening to the muffled conversation, preferring to steep in his own annoyance for the first quarter of an hour. But then he heard the first giggle.

What a sound. Enticing and interesting, a clear invitation to the listener to approach, to take liberties perhaps. He found his ears pricking up in spite of himself, a moment of intrigue at what promises were contained in that little sound. He chastened himself immediately, of course. This was Loki, for goodness' sake! That was his brother in there, he shouldn't even let the thought cross his mind...

"Mmm..." he heard. "Mm... Ah... Ah, yes..."

A horrible warm feeling settled in Thor's gut, his heart hammering in his chest. No, no, no. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be feeling like this, he ought to be disgusted not...

"Oh, _fuck..._ Oh, you're so good at that. Mmm..."

He was aroused. He couldn't deny it. He was horribly, hideously attracted to the sounds his younger brother was making. And his mind was effortlessly providing him with images, Loki nude on stage or changing in their room, the tilt of his head as he appraised something, sucking jam from his fingers at breakfast... What was this? What kind of fever had hit him that he was feeling such stirrings?

"Feels good. Yeah, like that. Ah, I like it just like that..."

He wanted to run away and hide, run away completely and never allow this shame to bubble up to the surface again. But then Loki...

Well, he'd have won, wouldn't he? He'd be vindicated in saying that Thor couldn't handle it, was too squeamish about his work. And what could he do then? Correct him? Tell him that the noises coming from the Nest had made his cock twitch within his trousers? It didn't even bear thinking of. Loki would be horrified. He couldn't do that. No, he had to still be here afterwards. He could do this. It was just a bodily reaction, nothing more.

"More... Ooh, right there..."

He grit his teeth as Loki's cries grew louder and higher, shuddering now like his whole body was being shaken by hard thrusts. He made his mind wander away, trying to think of the war, to shock his body back from this dangerous precipice.

"Don't stop! Oh, don't stop!"

Oh, God, he was actually hard now, wasn't he? This was happening. He was beyond redemption now, no matter how hard he tried to think of twisted, wounded bodies, his mind's eye stubbornly flew back to images of smooth skin, glinting teeth, a mouth open around cries of pleasure that he could draw from that long throat and all of it his brother, his own flesh and blood, no, please, no...

"Oh! Oh, yes, fill me up. So deep... So fucking good, you'll make me... Ah!"

Thor's hands were shaking, knuckles white against his knees, nails digging into his skin through the thick fabric of his trousers.

And suddenly silence. A final shout and then nothing. So they... They were... They had finished then.

Breathing. Breathing was alright, his chest trembling slightly. Gradually, he got himself back under control. His horror seemed to finally convince his cock that now was not an appropriate moment to make itself known, softening to a mere plumpness rather than an unmistakable bulge.

Thank goodness no one else had walked down the corridor. He'd have died of shame.

He didn't know how long he sat staring at the opposite wall before the door opened and Loki escorted his guest out, kissing and groping one another, hair tousled and clothes not quite straight. Or in Loki's case, not dressed at all from the waist down. Didn't want to ruin his trousers, probably, what with the... the leaking.

Thor resolutely kept his eyes above Loki's shoulders.

The second the curtain to the outside world had drifted shut, Loki turned back to Thor and made a face.

"Thank heaven that's over," he said. "God, he took forever to come. I was in severe danger of having to put actual effort into it."

Thor couldn't think of anything to say, his dreadful secret seeming to sit behind his teeth as he caught a whiff of the other man clinging to Loki's skin.

"I liked having you outside though. It added something. I don't know... Another layer of perversion to the Magpie. He certainly put in more effort, trying to impress you as well. Trying to show you how it's done. Ambition slightly outstripping ability, but he tried commendably."

Thor opened his mouth and forced some sound out.

"Are you asking me to watch over you?" he asked.

Loki looked at him, clearly noting his strained voice, how tense he was.

"Well, if you can't do it..."

A challenge then. In his right mind, Thor would have said no. But his strangely addled brain told him that exposure could be the key. Hear Loki's practised pretend moans enough and they would lose their power. They'd become as erotic as table legs. Ordinary. Boring, even. Certainly not something that made him wonder what real ones might sound like.

He stood up, flexing his arms to try to de-tense his muscles, hoping there weren't any strange creased in his trousers.

"I can do it," he said. "And that was far under an hour."

Loki laughed, producing a hair tie from his chest pocket and pulling back his errant waves.

"Oh, I know. A good rule of thumb is that I multiply my real estimation of their stamina by three. And then add an hour."

Thor snorted in spite of himself. It felt good, in a strange way, to share this camaraderie with Loki. To mock his clients together like they were naughty children again.

He could almost convince himself that he hadn't felt such terrible, confusing things.

But even if he had, his stupid reactions were his own problem. He wasn't about to let them ruin his relationship with Loki.

Especially not since Clint had returned their family picture, given as insurance for their day out. Loki might act like he didn't have a care in the world, but Thor could see how much it meant to him. Family. A place to belong.

He could not allow his carnal shame to take that away.

No. He could suffer through this.

It meant nothing and would not happen again, of that he was determined.


	19. Chapter 19

He was wrong. Of course he was wrong. Every hour he sat outside the Nest was the sweetest of tortures, trying to force himself to find an indifference that never came. He even caught himself looking forward to it, a chance to wallow in his disgusting secret and curse himself for it. Self-flagellation of a sort.

Worse than that, he started to notice himself finding Loki attractive at other times. He felt his heart rate lifting at the strangest times. A word said in a particular tone. A smile. A shrug. He noticed the grace in everyday movements, the sharp and glittering facets of Loki's mind in a way he hadn't before.

Or maybe he had and just hadn't realised what it meant.

It would likely drive him to despair in time, knowing he was the only person in the world who would never be able to voice his adoration or touch Loki in wonder.

He kept trying to dampen the little voice in the back of his mind that said he was the only one out of all of them who really deserved to.

In the meantime, he tried to throw himself into petty tasks, sweeping and mopping the stage with abandon, scrubbing the kitchen, helping launder the sheets. Practical things to distract and soothe his treacherous mind and its wandering thoughts.

Time moved surprisingly fast, weeks passing in a blur, pushing them into winter. All the performers knew him now, most of the regulars too. The Magpie's brother. He knew rumours about them flew and flitted about the place. All the things they supposedly did together. He wasn't sure if they originated organically or if Loki started them.

Apparently he had a whole stable of predilictions and habits, each one more depraved than the last. In the stories, he liked chains and ropes and gags, was rough and harsh. But it seemed sometimes he was loving. Loki said he was comforting and sweet when the mood struck. He painted a picture of an affair that was caring and happy and perverse and strange. Thor envied his fictional self every moment of intimacy..

Loki emphasized that they were brothers, of course. Some people didn't believe it. After all, they looked so different. Loki was all length and beauty, his dark hair making him look ethereal and other worldly, like the actors in that film they'd watched. Thor was gold and bronze, promised strength, would have bulk again now he was eating regularly. They were so different. Balanced.

Such thoughts were dangerous. They started to make him justify instead of rationalise.

"Any new requests tonight?" Loki asked one evening as Thor opened the door of their room.

He was sitting on the floor, a pile of money in front of him, carefully stitching it into lines with a huge needle. Thor watched for a moment, noting how methodically and carefully he was working, the delicate motions of his slender fingers. He wanted to kiss them, each and every knuckle, soft and lingering, one by one.

"You performing tomorrow?"

"Yep. Hopefully get a little excitement."

And what did that mean? Thor shrugged off his coat and sat on the edge of the bed. Although fairly regular, each show performance seemed to arrive sooner than the last. At least, from Thor's perspective.

"What do you actually do? To the... The men who stay on the stage? You don't..."

Loki yanked his thread taut suddenly, ripping the note he was working on.

"Don't what, Thor? Be more specific."

He sighed as Loki turned the bill over, finding an untorn edge. He still didn't like to say it.

"You don't fuck them all, I assume. There were six up there at the... the time I saw the beginning."

Carefully stringing two rows together, Loki held them up against his body.

"No, you're right. I don't think I could handle that many so quickly. I only do that kind of thing backstage. One on one. Exclusive. Never ever in public."

Was there a reason for that? Or did it just drive up demand?

"So what do you do when you're up there?"

Loki finally looked up at him, tilting his head to the side. Normally, Thor loved that look. It made him look curious and a little playful.

"Why don't you watch? Lock the door early, come in and see."

Thor felt his skin go cold, a horrible rush of awful roll through his gut. He didn't want to see Loki like that. Not with...

Not with other men.

"I don't think I will, thank you."

A smile.

"Well, then I suppose you won't find out."

Thor scrubbed his hands down his face.

"You're my brother. I don't want to see..."

"Then why do you want to know?"

Why did he want to know? Surely he wasn't... He didn't need to know. He just wanted to.

"I'm curious."

Loki was definitely laughing at him. He stood up, wrapping the notes around himself, testing the fit.

"Lock up early. Come and watch. Then you'll see."

Thor narrowed his eyes at him. Was this a trick of some kind? Was he meant to refuse?

"I'll think about it," he said.

Or rather, he'd try his best not to think about it.

Loki laid the beginnings of the tunic down on his dressing table.

"Seventeen thousand Marks so far," he said vaguely. "And yet totally worthless. Funny, isn't it?"

"Not really."

"Hm. No. I suppose not."

He found sleep easily that night, surprisingly. But he dreamt of Loki surrounded by wolves that tore and ripped at his flesh with claws and teeth, leaving his brother crying out in pleasure-pain each time.

He woke, knowing he would watch the show and hating every cell of his body. Loki looked younger when he slept, the teasing smirks vanished, skin smooth and soft in the moonlight.

Thor wanted to hold him. To protect him.

To love him.

Instead he folded his arms and forced himself to go back to sleep, keeping his hands to himself.


	20. Chapter 20

"Is the Magpie performing?"

He didn't want to say yes. He wanted to lie, to keep these grasping men away from Loki. But if he did that, Loki would not earn as much. His debts would last longer. So he nodded, eyeing these strangers, their nervous, sweaty hands, checking their pockets to make sure their offerings were secure.

And they were offerings, of a sort. He saw it clearly now, the looks on their faces close to rapturous. Loki was an idol, a deity of debauchery, the god of this underworld of sin. They worshipped him. And as reward for their faithfulness, he gave them his body.

It was strange. There were two Lokis. His brother, contrary and funny, and then there was the Magpie, fleeting and beautiful and magnetic.

He was beginning to rationalise his fascination. It was the Magpie who stirred these confusing feelings in him, not Loki. And the Magpie wasn't real.

A lie, he knew. The Magpie was an aspect of Loki, had his face and his voice and his body. He knew it was Loki who made his heart race by casually leaning against him in the evening or by brushing against his hand when accepting a mug of coffee. It was still awful and disgusting that he desired his brother, but he would defeat this, given time.

Perhaps the show would even help, he mused as he locked the door behind him. Perhaps he would be disgusted enough by the spectacle that his body would finally catch up with his mind and be repulsed.

A fruitless hope? Maybe. But he was desperate.

Loki was already mostly naked when he arrived, staying back in the shadows for fear that his lust would be written all over his face. There were three men on the chaise, waiting for whatever Loki would do with them. Thor leant against the bar, getting a nod from Erik, trying his best to seem nonchalant.

Clint spotted him first. He was taking some kind of bracelet from a patron and clearly on the lookout for Thor arriving. He tapped Loki on the shoulder and pointed.

A grin as Loki caught sight of him. He looked wicked, like a nefarious plan had fallen into place.

"Look," Loki called, his sweeping arm like a judgement from the heavens. "My brother is here. Shall we put on a show for him? A proper show?"

Cheering. So that was it. Loki wanted him to come and watch so he could use him to stir up a frenzy. Make his stories more convincing. They would all believe now that Thor had attended the performance. They would all read jealousy and possessiveness, rage and want in his features.

They might even be right.

"One place left. Who wants it? Or who wants me, if that's the more accurate question?"

Yells and almost howls from the crowd. They all wanted him, Thor included. Of course, he was not like these men, so crass and crude. His feelings were based on emotion and connection and...

And yet his mouth practically watered at the sight of Loki's bare flesh. He felt like he burned with it, fingers aching to touch, lips to taste...

A final man mounted the stage with a large parcel whose contents evidently passed muster with Clint, and the rest stood up. Thor found himself leaning forward, his heart hammering as Loki reclined across the chaise, his head hanging off the edge, one leg bent to display every inch and curve of his body.

"Come on, then. Give it to me. Don't be shy, darling. Don't make me wait."

The first man dropped his trousers and shoved his engorged cock into Loki's mouth without preamble. Thor was shocked by how sudden, how terse it was, not so much as a tease or a word, just a harsh thrust in. A brief choking sound made him tense in anger but then he was stunned to see Loki gripping the man's thighs, pulling him impossibly closer.

He didn't breathe. Thor stared, watching Loki's throat moving, swallowing hard around the length. He needed to breathe. Why wasn't he pushing back and breathing? He'd faint at this rate.

Was that what he did? Was that his trick, to make himself pass out? Just the idea of him suddenly going limp was enough to make bile churn in Thor's stomach.

The man's face was contorted in ecstasy, his hips making little rolling movements, though it appeared he couldn't possibly get any deeper. Loki had taken him all the way in with little apparent effort.

How had he ever learned to do that? Thor told himself he didn't want to know.

It seemed an age before the man let out a sort of yelp, head thrown back and finally withdrawing. Loki's chest heaved, a loud gasp as he filled his lungs, his ribs like bellows. His client stumbled, overwhelmed with sensation, it seemed. Loki sat up, panting but smiling out at the crowd.

"A good start," he announced. "But I need more."

The next man had pulled him off the chaise in a heartbeat and pushed him to his knees. Loki rubbed his face against the bulge in his trousers and undid them using his teeth with practised ease. Playing for time? Trying to recover a little more before it began again? A few members of the crowd moved to get a better vantage poing for the new angle.

This man was rough. He knotted his hands in Loki's hair and took control of the motion, forcing him to go fast and deep.

Too rough. Loki started making uncomfortable noise, grunts with something close to pain in them, tears shining in his eyes even visible from this distance.

The anger burning in Thor's chest was too strong to resist, but he walked calmly through the tables. He was consciously using his height and breadth to be intimidating and cleared his throat in a way that ensured he would not be ignored.

Loki looked at him curiously, nervously. Concerned about what he was going to do, still holding the man's cock in his mouth for all that the thrusts had stopped.

"You're not treating my brother with a lot of respect," Thor said, his voice sounding so calm he surprised himself.

"He can take it."

Thor forced out a chuckle, like this was all a big joke and he wasn't desperately having to resist the urge to rearrange the man's face with his bare hands.

"Oh, I know he can take it. He can take almost anything. But that doesn't mean you have the right to test his limits. Be more careful with him. He's not unbreakable. Hurt him too much and you and I might just have a problem."

Loki's eyes glittered with triumph, his plan to use Thor as part of his performance probably going better than he'd hoped, finally getting to set his own pace and no longer having his hair pulled. The man moaned. Evidently Loki was doing something interesting with his tongue.

"You see? If you're nice to him, he's nice to you."

By the third man, Thor had got up onto the stage. He felt like he was dreaming. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. He couldn't be standing there, watching this, feeling a strange calm.

More deep swallowing. Loki was moaning now, like he was getting intense pleasure from the act. His cock was still soft though, hanging between his legs.

Thor could not say the same. He could feel a distinct tightness in his trousers, had been feeling it for quite a while. He was pretending it wasn't there, but he couldn't deny it.

He really was sick, wasn't he?

In a strange haze, he watched as Loki finished his last man and turned to him, flexing his jaw. The stood up, winked and reached for Thor's crotch before he could move back.

There was a horrifying beat as Loki felt it, felt the hard length of his cock and looked at him, eyes wide, shocked. He hadn't expected this, that much was obvious. He was just playing at forbidden lust, performing for the crowd and now he'd felt it, the clear evidence of his brother's shame, his hideous secret, all too real and undeniable... Thor jerked, gasping, like cold water had been poured down his back.

"Take me to bed, brother," Loki said, his voice slightly shaky and his face panicked where the audience couldn't see, putting his hands on Thor's shoulders and jumping.

Thor caught him around the waist automatically, long legs wrapped tightly around him and arms looped around his neck. He might have dreamed of such an intimate position and yet here he was almost paralysed with panic, walking stiffly as he carried Loki backstage accompanied by raucous cheers.

"Put me down," Loki hissed as the curtain fell shut behind them, slapping at Thor's chest. "Put me down! Fuck!"

The second his feet touched the floor, he fled, leaving Thor among the clutter of backstage, alone and ashamed.


	21. Chapter 21

Thor sat in the kitchen with his head in his hands. No-one else had shown their faces. Clint was out front encouraging the patrons to leave and Lewis was still out looking for business. He hadn't even tried pursuing Loki upstairs.

Turned out he didn't need to.

"What the fuck was that?"

Thor didn't look round. He couldn't bear to look. He couldn't make eye contact now. He was too ashamed, too pitiful.

"I'm sorry," he said. It sounded pathetic.

"I should fucking hope so! What, you started to believe those stupid stories I tell? Have you completely lost your sense of reality?"

"I'm sorry. But you wanted me to be there, you told me to be there."

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

Thor sighed. No, of course it wasn't, but Loki had inadvertently made life extremely difficult for him. Everything about him seemed to stoke Thor's desire higher.

"You're the one who kissed me," he said, glad that no emotion was managing to get out. "You're the one who suggested that we were... intimate."

"It wasn't an invitation! You're my brother. You're not supposed to... Wait. How long has this been happening?"

It was hard to admit it, but Loki was owed this, he deserved the truth.

"A while. Since the first time I sat outside the Nest. Maybe before then even, I don't know. But that's when I noticed my... attraction to you. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'll leave."

Loki groaned in frustration.

"You can't leave. You're part of my gimmick now. The best throat in the business and I come with a hideous taboo secret. I just didn't realise the secret was real. I thought of all people that you wouldn't end up thinking of me like that. I thought I could trust you."

Feeling that he needed to see his face, Thor turned around, finding Loki with folded arms and tense shoulders, standing in the doorway like he might run away at any moment. He'd dressed like his clothes were armour, his shirt buttoned right to the neck. He was hiding his body, protecting himself even from Thor's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I'm... I don't know why I feel this way, but I do. You were so young when we last saw each other. And besides you're so..."

Loki's mouth twisted, angry and horrified.

"What, Thor? I'm so what?"

"Sexual. All the time. It's... confusing. Even the smallest things have got under my skin in a way I can't explain. I love you, of course I do, but I have found even that getting mixed up with these other feelings, becoming a different kind of love. I tried to hide it. I thought it would stop. It terrifies me that I feel this way. If I could make it stop by force of will, by God I would."

Loki tilted his head to the side, calculating.

"Do you want me even now? If I lay upon that table and offered myself to you, would you do it? Your own flesh? Or is this a fantasy and nothing more, nothing you would really act upon?"

Thor said nothing. He didn't know. Or rather, he knew the truth which was that if Loki asked, he would succumb so fast... But it would have to be real. He wouldn't believe it was real without a lot of convincing. His moans on the stage were not real, but that just made Thor want to discover the true sounds his brother might make when pleasured even more. Would he do it if he thought Loki wanted it?

Yes. Gladly. And the knowledge made him want to cringe away from himself.

When he didn't reply, Loki laughed without any mirth. He knew the truth. He knew that Thor would cross that line in a heartbeat.

"You're right," he said. "I am sexual. It's my job to be sexual. But I'm... I'm still your brother. That is the only part of this that's real. Or so I thought. I... I don't know how to be any other way, I can't be that child you remember any more. I've changed. Everything has changed."

"What happened? What drove you here?"

Loki pressed his lips together, shaking his head. Thor's heart sank. How could they come back from this? How could he regain his brother's trust? How could he show that he meant it, that he still loved him as a brother and that wouldn't change, even though he was suffering this sickness?

He looked down at the table again, the whorls in the wood, the gouges from overenthusiastic scrubbing.

"I surrendered to the Russians, you know," he said, running what used to be his middle finger along one of the grooves.

It was hard to be in the middle while on the end.

"What are you talking about?"

"In the war. You wanted to know what happened."

He could almost feel Loki's gaze upon him.

"You want to do this now?"

"It is a night for secrets, it seems."

He felt it building up inside him, ready to pour out.

"I surrendered. I made the decision for my comrades. I couldn't bear to keep fighting, so I surrendered immediately when they came upon us. I thought it would be better. Spending the war in a camp somewhere, not on the front line, but... well, that decision just brought more death."

He heard his own voice like someone else was speaking to him. Like he was hearing someone else tell the story.

"We lost men on the march from exhaustion. We lost them in the camp. Starvation, typhus, cold. I doomed them to a slow death, miles from home, surrounded by strangers. It became normal to hear a death rattle in the night. To take clothes from the dead, just trying to keep warm. I saw men take their friends' wedding rings and swallow them, hoping to hide them, smuggle them home, give their families something... And I... I did a terrible thing."

He could excuse himself what he had done during the fighting. War was war. But what he had done in the tundra still made his heart clench in horror.

"What thing? What did you do?" Loki asked, suddenly by his side. He took the chair at the head of the table, concern radiating from him.

"They made us build railways. We were essentially loose in the wilderness, only partially guarded. I would fantasize about overpowering them and escaping. But I had no idea which way to go. I would just have frozen to death."

He had to pause and exhale, wipe his eyes a little. He felt sick. No wonder Loki rejected him. Even as a brother, how could he bear to be with him?

"It was so cold that my beard froze with my breath. I was so frightened of the cold. It took my fingers after all. And then... Then it took my friend. Fandral. He was the one who cut off my dead fingers. He was chatty. Funny. He tried his best to stay cheerful no matter what. We would bed down together to try to stay warm. We all would, little groups hiding from the weather. And one night... I woke up and he was dead beside me."

Loki frowned lightly.

"That's not your fault, Thor."

Was he really going to say it? What he'd done? He had to. He had to prove to Loki that he could be trusted, that he trusted him even with this.

"It was so cold. It was in my bones. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. So I took his coat and blanket, took his warmth. I was still cold. And he was dead, he was..."

"What did you do?"

"He had a knife. A sharp one. I knew that his blood would still warm, hot even... So I opened his shirt and I sliced him open. I made pockets in his flesh, making sure to avoid his stomach for fear of acid. I took off my gloves and I... I pressed my fists inside. I kept my hands warm inside him, wondering if I would die too, almost hoping I would maybe. His blood looked black as it froze in droplets against the snow in the dark. I mutilated my friend. I couldn't even bury him. I had to leave him out there for the wolves, face down in the hope that no one would see the red and know what I'd done. Or worse, think that I killed him. My hands... They smelled of blood beneath my gloves for months."

He could still see those frozen eyes. Stuck open, ferns of ice spreading across the surface of them. He'd probably saved his hands, but he would never forget that sight. Not for as long as he lived.

"Sometimes I dream that I'm doing it again and he begins to scream. And then I'm so afraid... What if he wasn't dead, but in the frozen sleep? I saw it later, the cold sickness, how recovery is possible. He might have woken up, but I had already cut into him, I had as good as murdered him..."

"You did what you had to," Loki said. "You had to stay alive. You promised me you would."

He had promised.

He had promised so much. That he would come home, that he would look after Loki. And what now? Now he was just another lecherous would-be customer, wanting his own brother's body.

Loki reached out tentatively and took his hand. Thor stared at him in wonder, his seeming to almost burn him. How could he even bear to touch him now he knew?

"I'll tell you my tale one day," he said, squeezing lightly. "I promise. Just... not yet. And now, I think we both need some sleep. We will deal with this. You will come to your senses, I have faith of that. But for the moment, we hide this. It was pretend. That's all. Nothing more. Everything is normal."

Thor nodded, thinking he would sleep on the floor. But Loki insisted he take his usual place as though nothing had happened, even if he did lie as far from him as possible.

Thor stared at the ceiling for hours, almost sure that Loki wasn't sleeping either.

And waking up alone did nothing for his state of mind either.


	22. Chapter 22

It became routine. They shared a bed, but they didn't touch. Loki's casual leaning on him disappeared along with any other contact. And generally, he was gone by the time Thor woke up.

They didn't discuss it. Thor continued to sit outside the Nest during sessions, hating himself, punishing himself for being so weak, so strange.

He was jealous. Of course he was. Horribly jealous of every man Loki took to that room. Everyone who paid for the privilege. They didn't love him. They didn't even know him. They didn't deserve him.

It started subtly. He barely realised he was doing it, but he began to accept fewer bookings. He just didn't want all those strangers touching his brother. He put up the price to discourage it. More money per session was good, surely. It wouldn't adversely affect his debts, but he'd do less.

The downside to this plan was that Loki was bored and suspicious. Clint despaired of him, always getting under his feet. He began sending Lewis out to fetch books for him, trashy pulp novels for him to devour and longer more interesting things. But Thor noticed the looks thrown his way. Loki suspected what he was doing, didn't like it, but wasn't saying anything. Didn't want that fight, perhaps.

Before he knew it, it was time for Loki to perform again, sewing his tunic together.

"Will you be there for me?" he asked, not looking up at Thor from his place on the floor.

"If you want me there."

"I need you there. They expect you to be there."

"Then I will. For you."

No thanks, but he didn't expect any.

He had lived through war, through horror, pain and degredation. But stepping up on that stage, standing there, growling at the audience and barking orders to the men as they used Loki's mouth... It was the least comfortable he'd ever been. He felt awful. Like he was forcing Loki to do this. He could feel himself almost shaking to make himself keep up the act.

They didn't touch as they left the scene. Well... They held hands, but that was all. It didn't really count, for all it was the most contact they'd had in weeks.

Clint ambushed them the moment they were backstage, eyes wide with concern. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. He beckoned Loki over into the shadows behind the curtain pulls, hissing urgently, too quiet for Thor to hear.

"Tonight?" Loki asked. "I... Yes, alright. I know. Just... I need a few minutes to prepare. Stall him, but for God's sake, please don't give him coffee..."

He shoved past Thor and headed for the Nest, rolling his shoulders back.

"What's going on?" Thor asked.

"Nothing. Go to bed. I'll be up soon."

This was not normal, but there was no point in arguing. He was still frowning as he glanced towards the kitchen, spotting a stranger there. A tall man leaning against the wall. He narrowed his eyes at Thor. Who was this? Something about him made Thor wary, not even acknowledging he had seen him before climbing the stairs two at a time.

Late night client? It had to be. But there had been no booking. Strange. Very strange.

He lay in bed, trying to sleep but unable to. How long had that man been waiting for Loki? Who was he? Evidently whoever it was, Loki knew them.

Hours might have passed before the door creaked open. Loki was silhouetted against the moonlight, Clint helping him limp into the room.

"A little further. Come on. See, here's Thor, he'll look after you..."

Thor sat up and pulled the blankets open, looking to Clint for some kind of explanation as Loki practically fell into bed. All he got was a curt head shake.

"Thor?" Loki said, his voice small and hoarse.

"I'm here. It's alright."

Clint tiptoed out of the room, leaving them alone in the darkness.

"Will you hold me?"

Thor hesitated. He was slurring his words a little, his breathing shallow. He didn't seem well.

"I'm not sure you really want me to, Lokes."

A sigh, a flailing arm. Thor flinched back from it.

"I know you're a pervert an' you wanna fuck me, but I need some comfort an' you're here so... Please?"

He couldn't refuse such a request, even if he wanted to protest that he wasn't a pervert, he was just having a difficult time. Trying hard not to hurt him, he carefully wrapped Loki in his arms, stroking his hair, cradling him almost.

"What happened? What did they do to you?"

"Sssh... Sleep now."

It didn't take long for Loki to drift off. In his worry, Thor ended up staying awake far longer, hours longer. Dawn had broken by the time he finally fell asleep, meaning dinner wouldn't be far away.

Sure enough, he felt like he'd only just closed his eyes when there was a knock and Clint awkwardly juggled two plates into the room.

"I'll just leave these here," he whispered, putting them down on the dressing table.

Loki stirred anyway and groaned, trying to burrow into Thor's chest.

"Dinner," Thor said gently. "Can you sit up?"

Another groan, but Loki did push himself into a sitting position, shuffling until he was approximately upright. Thor shimmied down the bed until he could slip out of the bottom, fetching one of the plates to give him.

And then he saw the extent of the damage.

"Don't," Loki said, cringing away from his touch.

"Your neck..."

Huge finger marks bloomed purple around Loki's throat. Like someone had tried to choke him to death.

"I know..." Loki coughed, his eyes screwed shut. "Clint... Water..."

They were left alone again for a moment, Thor desperately trying to rub his brother's back, trying to soothe him while Clint ran for a glass.

"Who did this to you?"

Loki shook his head. He wouldn't say. Probably because he knew Thor would want to track them down and murder them.

The sheets slipped down to his waist and Thor saw more bruises there. It looked like he'd been burned by a rope. The same marks were on his wrists too. He sipped his water carefully once it arrived, tugging on Clint's sleeve.

"Don't tell him anything," he croaked. "He'll do something stupid."

"I don't think defending my little brother is stupid."

Loki looked him right in the eye, bloodshot and shadowy.

"It is if it gets you killed."


	23. Chapter 23

Thor decided to stop demanding answers for the moment out of concern for Loki's health. He was in no position to take part in screaming rows. He needed rest and care, needed his bookings for the next week or even more cancelled. He couldn't entertain looking like this.

"I'll do it," Clint said. "I'll say he's sick."

Thor certainly didn't want to leave Loki's side and put up with leering men asking if he'd fucked his brother so hard that he couldn't walk. He might do something he regretted if any of them so much as implied he'd been the one to hurt him.

Loki hissed at the sting of iodine being applied to the wounds on his wrists, waist and ankles, complaining that he'd already had some the night before along with a hefty dose of port to ease the pain. He seemed closer to being his usual self, but he almost refused to look at Thor, seemingly mortified by the state he was in.

Why? It wasn't his fault. Someone had done this to him, probably that man waiting in the kitchen. Was Thor sure he would recognise him again? He should have taken a better look. He'd only really registered as tall... Stern-looking, heavy brows. And apparently with a horribly cruel streak.

He must have tied Loki up, over-tightly, holding him down so he couldn't fight, and then choked him as he...

"Stop it," Loki said, his voice dull. "I can practically hear you imagining it. Getting angry won't change anything."

He couldn't help it. The idea of Loki restrained and frightened, unable to resist, it made such bile rise in his throat. And worse, part of him could imagine his brother tied gently, with soft ropes or maybe silk scarves, squirming in anticipation, willingly giving himself up to be taken care of so carefully. Marks on his neck from kisses, not hands.

"How did you get rope burn on your waist?" he asked, furious at his treacherous mind.

It didn't make sense. The wrists and ankles he could figure out, but a rope around his waist... What purpose could that serve?

"He doesn't like it if you move too much. Uses rope to lash you down."

He was so dispassionate. Usually, when he talked about his clients, Loki was full of mirth, laughing at the ways they convinced themselves that they loved him or that they really were the best he'd ever have.

But now... Now he spoke as though this attack - and that was what Thor had to think of it as, for his own piece of mind - had happened to someone else.

Thor knew that defence mechanism very well.

Distraction. That's what they needed. He wanted to take Loki out, get him away from the scene of the trauma, but he knew they'd never be allowed to leave for fear that they'd just up and run - a thought that seemed more and more tempting by the second - and besides, Loki probably wasn't up to walking very far in this state.

His books, then. Lewis probably had some new ones, or could get them. He left Loki dozing and went to find her, still embarrassed by the fact that she slept in the nude.

"Someone hurt him last night," he said, looking studiously at the wall while she tossed clothes about the place looking for novels. "But he and Clint have decided I can't know who did it."

"Well, you know, maybe that's for your own good," she said, holding out a dog-eared volume, still with its pawn shop tag attached. "We live dangerous lives, meet dangerous people. He'll recover, he always does."

He'd been here only two years. She sounded like she'd seen this happen before, more than once even.

"How often does this kind of thing happen?"

She shrugged, climbing back into bed, but leaving her chest visible. Thor was sure she was just trying to tease him for his embarrassment. Maybe trying to cheer him up or at least distract him a little.

Or maybe she was just comfortable like that.

"It's unpredictable. Sometimes months of nothing, sometimes a repeat after only a few days."

Days? It could only be a matter of days before this happened again? No. Loki was his brother, his responsibility, he would not allow anyone to hurt him, not again.

"Oh, dear," Loki said sleepily as he opened the door. "I know that look. Don't poke at things, Thor, you'll only make them worse."

Mouth set, Thor was not about to have an argument. He was just going to state some facts.

"Lewis told me that sometimes the person who did this returns after only a day or two."

Loki sighed.

"He won't be back for a while."

"How do you know?"

"Because he told me so. He's away on business. Relax, Thor. There's nothing you can do about it, so just... stop."

"No, you stop. Stop lying to me, stop treating yourself like this. Run away with me."

Loki's eyes flickered shut again.

"There's no point in running. He'll find me and drag me back. Maybe break my legs to stop me escaping again. Maybe chain me up in the Nest, take away what freedom I have. And he'd kill you if you tried anything. I'm close to paying my debts."

"How close?"

Loki sighed.

"Another year maybe."

"So you don't actually know. You don't have an exact figure."

"No point. Inflation makes the worth of everything change every day. One hundred Marks today is worth fifty tomorrow, twenty by Saturday. Give me that book, then. I want to read, preferably in peace."

Thor tossed it onto the empty pillow.

"They're lying to you, Loki," he said. "As long as you're valuable, you'll never be free."

No response. Loki picked up the book - something called Death In Venice - and flicked it open, pretending he hadn't heard.

Thor practically growled before turning his heel and closing the door just a little heavily.

If Loki wanted time alone, he could have it. Maybe a little time to think would encourage him to come to his senses.


	24. Chapter 24

He took his stormy mood down to the kitchen, slamming things around, almost breaking glasses with how angrily he washed them.

"You need to calm down," Clint's voice behind him.

In an entirely predictable development, Thor felt his mood get even worse, spinning around and letting water splash all over the floor without a care.

"How can you let something like that happen?" he demanded. "You're supposed to look after him."

Clint broke their mutual glare first, scrubbing down the table with harsh actions.

"You say that like I have a choice," he said. "Like I chose this job. You think I want to run this place? You think I want to see girls who might be my daughter walking the streets, that I want to clean up after sessions and pick up the pieces when someone breaks? I make this house and show as safe as I can, but I can't refuse the man who owns the place, or the people close to him."

Thor wasn't convinced.

"There's always a choice," he said. "You're free to leave whenever you want."

"And do what? Starve on the street? Let my children starve?"

"What children?"

Clint sighed. He seemed older suddenly, though Thor couldn't quite pin down his age. He was definitely tired, exhausted even.

"You're not the only one who survived the war," he said bitterly. "Of all people, I thought you might understand. I was on the Western Front. One of four survivors in my trench. Made it home just in time to see my wife and two youngest die during the flu of '18. Moved to Berlin, no work to be found, no matter how hard I tried and trust me, I tried. I looked for work every minute of every hour. And then a man approached me. Said his boss admired my tenacity, wanted to help. Offered me the running of this place, full expenses for residents and two percent of the profits. This theatre might not be pretty or moral or even high quality for what it is, but it provides for my children. They live with their aunt now and I send every penny I have to them. We're saving up. We're getting out."

"Where will you go?"

"No idea. Away. America maybe. Ireland. Just away from here."

"And how much have you saved?"

"I don't know. Not enough. The boss keeps an eye on the balance for me and I haven't saved enough yet..."

It was sad, the desperation, but Thor wasn't ready to let go of his anger yet.

"You don't know how much. The real owner doesn't tell you exact figures. You're both so blind. You don't have control. You never had control over any of this. And besides, you might only be an underling and protest your innocence, but you profit from this. You profit from my brother's body just the same as the higher ups. I wouldn't be surprised to hear you've sampled the merchandise too."

The damp cloth slapped against the table.

"It wasn't like that."

Thor had just been trying to twist a knife. He hadn't realised there was so much as a grain of truth to that accusation. He dried his hands perfunctorily and stamped his way out into the yard, wanting the cold air to sting, to hurt. Maybe it would help ease the pain in his heart.

Maybe it would be better if he just lay down out here and never got up again. He sat on the back step, watching his own wasted breath curl in the air, contemplating it, feeling as his body grew cold and numb.

He should have died out there next to Fandral in the snow. It was his right, an honourable death, not this hideous disgusting life he had now. It would have been better for everyone if he'd never come home.

The shouting reached his ears distantly, a furious row and hacking coughs. The door creaked behind him.

"Thor," Loki said. "Get inside. It's freezing."

"Go back to bed. You're hurt."

"Not until you come in."

His muscles had gotten stiff. His skin was probably chafed and sore, but he couldn't feel that yet. He dumbly followed Loki in and let himself be pushed into a chair in front of the range, Loki sitting by his feet wrapped in the bed blanket. The floor had been mopped, the water wiped away.

If only it were so easy to wipe away the past.

"Clint... Him and you..."

Loki scoffed.

"Once, Thor. An experiment. I just wanted to see if I could make him succumb. I did. I'm not proud of it."

"When?"

Why did he care? It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Not really. But it was easier somehow to think of the clients as faceless men. Clint was in the house all the time. It felt... different.

"About two months after I arrived here. I was testing out how alluring I was to uninterested men. It didn't mean anything. And you shouldn't make him feel bad about it."

"Why?"

A movement that might have been a shrug.

"I wanted it. I wanted something... not the same. I used him. And then he got all guilt-ridden and sad about it and so I used that to get things my own way for a while. He's suffered enough without you attacking him too."

That seemed to be all he'd say on the matter. Thor sighed, watching where the heat of the coal made the air twist and shimmer, like ghosts dancing.

"You're trapped here," he murmured. "Both of you. And you can't even see it."

Loki shuffled until he was facing away, leaning back against Thor's knees to look up at him. A strange angle. It made his chin look very pointy.

"You learn not to see the bars on the cage," he said. "If it wasn't Clint running this place, it would be someone else. Maybe someone who wouldn't take care of me so well, wouldn't care about me or Darcy or any of them. Maybe someone who'd hurt us or not feed us right or steal from us. It's good that it's him. He's too nice for this harsh life really."

"Why don't you leave?" Thor said desperately, unable to let go. "You could both go, just take the money from a few nights and get out, go somewhere, anywhere else? Go in the night, get his family, run away? Be gone before they even know what's happened."

"Why didn't you escape from the Russians?"

Always another question...

"What do you mean? I couldn't. I wouldn't have survived out there on my own."

"Exactly."

He didn't say anything else, just rested his head, closed his eyes, and let Thor stew in his despair.


	25. Chapter 25

Loki healed fast. Had he always been so or had his body learned to adapt? Either way, far sooner than Thor liked, when the bruises were yet grey shadows on his bridge, he started taking a few regulars back. He softened his usually scrupulous grooming routine and allowed stubble to grow, disguising the marks as merely signs of his beginnings of a beard.

"Why didn't you tell me how useful they are?" he demanded of Thor later. "So scratchy. I left marks in a few intimate places. He'll be thinking of me for days..."

"You hated mine when I first started growing it," Thor said, running his hands through it.

Soft, now it was regularly cleaned. Hardly scratchy at all. It would only leave scrapes on the most delicate skin.

He tried to shove his mind back to safe thoughts and away from contemplating where such skin might be found.

"It made you look old," Loki protested. "If you got old, you might get tired of playing with me. But you were so proud of it, even when it was no more than mouse hair."

"Does it still displease you? I could always take a turn of your razor. Give myself a dignified moustache."

Loki made a face at him in the mirror.

"No, don't. You'd look ridiculous. Besides, I like it now. You grew into it. But I fear mine must go as soon as I'm healed. I already had one complaint about marring my face with it."

He shaved a few days later. It was early in the morning, still dark, the gentle flicker of a candle disturbing Thor's sleep.

"What are you doing?" he murmured.

Loki wrapped a battered fur stole around his neck like a scarf, concealing the bruises.

"Go back to sleep. It's nothing."

Well, that was a sure sign that it was not nothing. Thor took in the rest of his clothes. The neat ones, his best. All dressed up at this hour? It didn't make sense.

Loki caught his frown and sighed, trying to tuck him back in but clearly unaccustomed to such an action.

"I've been summoned downstairs for a meeting in the kitchen. It's nothing. I'll be back in about half an hour. You can keep the bed warm for me."

"I'll come with you."

"No. No, it's private. Don't worry. Just go back to sleep."

Perhaps ten minutes passed, Thor staring into the darkness, the after-images from Loki's candle flashing bright blue in his eyes. Private. But not in the Nest. It was not a sexual meeting then. Surely not... Not where they ate.

He did try to obey Loki's demands and go back to sleep, tossing and turning to no avail. He couldn't though. Not when he suspected the man who hurt Loki was downstairs at that very moment.

He crept down the hall, wary of any creaking floorboards, trying to be as silent as the grave. One step at a time, slow but steady progress.

Of course, Clint was sat outside the kitchen door, guarding it from unwanted ears. He didn't even have to say anything, just rolled his eyes and pointed Thor back the way he'd come.

Thwarted. But there were always other options.

He retreated to the attic to fetch the glass that Loki had kept by the bed while his throat healed, draining what was left of the water in it and going back down to the floor above ground level.

Loki had shown him this trick one Christmas when he was twelve and Thor was sixteen. Place a glass on the floor, press an ear against it, and the words being spoken in the room below become clearer. At least, that was the theory. In practice, they hadn't been able to discern which gifts their parents were hiding or or where they were hidden.

But perhaps he would be luckier this time, trying to judge which room would be directly above the kitchen.

He went for the corridor in the end. He didn't want to disturb whoever had rented the first floor rooms. And it would do well enough.

There wasn't much he could work out. A deep voice said something about choices, Loki replying with something he couldn't hear. A bang, like a cane coming down on wood. Loki shouting, something about disgusting.

What were they talking about? It all went very quiet, but Thor could feel unease rippling over his skin, making him shiver almost. The bang of the door opening made him startle, leaping to his feet and trying to climb the stairs quickly, before Loki caught him eavesdropping.

Loki had been threatened, that much was obvious. But why?

He faced the wall in the dark, deliberately slowing his breathing as much as he could to trying to cover his recent physical activity, waiting in the darkness for Loki to return.

He didn't. After a while, Thor became suspicious and then afraid. What if he'd been taken? Or hurt?

No concern this time. He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, heart almost bursting to find Loki there, sitting at the table and looking upset but unhurt.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," Loki said.

A lie, an obvious lie, but Thor wasn't about to push it. Instead he took the neighbouring seat and let the silence stretch out peacefully.

He was surprised, though not unpleasantly, when Loki leant against him, sighing gently as he let Thor bear his weight.

If only he could carry all his brother's cares so easily.


	26. Chapter 26

Loki wasn't himself.

Of course, as far as Thor was concerned, he hadn't been himself for some time, but he seriously wasn't himself. He grew quiet and thoughtful, not showing his wit like he normally did. Obvious jokes went by without him commenting. Any news was met with only a shrug, never anything as significant as a smile.

But he was starting to touch Thor again.

Little things. Leaning on him, mostly. He seemed to just like being around him, watching as he went about his daily tasks. Sometimes Thor thought he caught something in him, a strange expression, narrowed eyes and clenched jaw like he was trying to work something out.

It passed from his face in seconds, like it was never there. Wind on water.

For his part, Thor tried his best to keep his hands to himself, not wanting to jeopardise this tenuous intimacy by being too presumptive. Not that his body seemed to listen, often curling around Loki in the night, holding him close.

No matter what he did, going to sleep facing the other way or lying on his stomach, he woke like that. Had he always done it? Was that why Loki was so frequently up before him? Escaping his wandering hands... The mere thought upset him, that he might have unconsciously made Loki uncomfortable.

He didn't seem to mind now, letting himself be cuddled, sometimes even staying in Thor's arms when he was awake, staring at nothing.

And, of course, there was another problem to deal with in the mornings.

It was just a natural thing that had always happened, Thor told himself, not a reflexion on him as a person. His cock growing hard was just something that happened biologically.

Still, he reflexively jerked his hips away from Loki in the mornings, trying not to startle or worry him. He still slept with his clothes on anyway. It wasn't as though he could accidentally do anything untoward.

Until the morning when he woke and found that the head of his cock was definitely touching bare skin.

He startled, trying to move back, but found himself trapped against the wall. Could he had opened his own trousers in the night? Surely not. Had they torn?

"Ssh..." Loki said, reaching back and gripping his thigh. "It's alright. It's alright."

Thor tried to say it wasn't alright, tried to protest his innocence, but the apology stuck in his throat as Loki took hold of his cock and carefully guided it between his thighs, tightening them around the length.

"Like this," he whispered. "Go on. Please. I want you to."

Unsure, panting in confusion, Thor tentatively slid his hips forward. Loki's legs were like a fist, and yet softer, more giving, the skin so smooth. Irresistible. His arm found its way back around Loki's waist, holding him close, lips finding the side of his neck and inhaling the delicate scent of his skin.

Tears leaked from his eyes as readily as sighs from his lips, unable to be held back, his grip so tight around Loki, as if he was trying to pull him into his very being.

The first noise from Loki surprised him, letting his eyes open and awkwardly look over his shoulder, seeing the motion beneath the blanket as he stroked himself.

Together. They were doing this together.

He couldn't bear it, letting out a grunt as he hit his peak and clinging to Loki as he finished with nothing but a soft sigh. What did this mean? What had just happened?

Loki ran a finger gently up his arm.

"You'll have to wash the bedding," he murmured.

Was that it? Was that all he could say?

Thor stared past him towards the wall, feeling distinctly sticky, and didn't know quite how to word any of the things he wanted to.

In time, Loki got up and wiped the evidence from his thighs with careful, clinical passes of his cloth and got dressed for dinner.

Thor could do nothing but watch him go, wondering when any of this was going to start making sense.


	27. Chapter 27

Thor felt as though his world had become back to front, broken somehow. Loki had been disgusted by the revelation that he felt attracted to him, as well he might, but now he was the one initiating things far beyond what was normal. The only way Thor's trousers could have been undone is if Loki had untied them after all. He'd been lying there naked, waiting.

What did this have to do with his quietness, his withdrawal? And in turn, what did that have to do with the meeting he'd had?

By the time he'd found enough momentum to get up and go downstairs, Thor was amazed to hear Loki's laughter echoing from the kitchen. He sounded happy. Genuinely so. Chatting and joking like he used to do.

Part of Thor wanted to conclude therefore that this was nothing to worry about, but his mind refused to let it lie. There were too many questions left unanswered for that.

Laundry. That was something he could do, something practical and absorbing, stripping the beds and boiling water, grating the soap into it. He almost paused, looking at their sheets. If he washed the evidence away, had it really happened? Would it be more like a dream, nebulous and fleeting?

Was that how Loki wanted it to be?

He was rinsing everything, great sopping wet things steaming wildly in the cold air when Clint called to him.

"He wants to see you. I'll finish these."

"Where is he?"

"Nest. He took a last-minute booking. Seems to be perking up at last, at least."

Ah, he wanted Thor to resume his strange sentry duties. He almost baulked at it. After that morning, he wasn't sure what was going on.

He turned the corner just in time to see Loki bidding his client goodbye. Strange. Why would he be summoned then?

The man's eyes flicked past Loki to look at him, concern passing over his face. Loki turned to follow his gaze, a bright smile like a new dawn spreading across his lips.

"Thor! Come here."

He approached with caution, like Loki was a wild animal, unsure what he was going to do.

He was vindicated when he found himself with Loki very firmly attached to him, apparently attempting to climb up his body, forcing him to pick him up and let him wrap both legs around him.

A firm kiss on his mouth almost had him reeling, not even listening as Loki purred in his ear. He was saying something about feeling needy and desperate, wanting, requiring Thor to take him into the Nest _right now..._

It was like being in a daze, walking into the room as Loki attacked his neck with kisses. Eventually he managed to deposit him on the bed and pull back, unsure what was happening.

"What kind of game are you playing, Loki?"

"No game. I want you, that's all."

No, no... There was something wrong here beyond the fact Loki was suddenly throwing himself at him. His eyes didn't look right. Like he was hiding something. Or hiding his true feelings.

Thor stepped back deliberately, taking a deep breath, trying to get his body under control. It liked the look of lounging, pouting Loki very much indeed. But this was the time for head and heart not... not any other body part.

"Stop... Stop trying to Magpie me."

A frown. Loki rolled onto his front, kicking his legs, his thighs still shiny from his most recent session. Another man had just... It made Thor feel sick.

"I thought you wanted this. I thought you wanted me."

Thor sighed. This room was too bright, all the shining trinkets hurting his eyes. He wanted to blow out all the candles, wanted to change the atmosphere.

"I don't know what I want," he admitted. "But I don't trust what you're saying right now."

"You seemed to trust me this morning. You wanted me then."

Oh, but he knew how to twist the knife, didn't he?

"I did. But that was different. That felt honest. I don't want... I don't want something pretend. Something fabricated. Especially since I don't understand why you're doing it."

He could tell right away from the look in Loki's eye that he wouldn't be getting any answers just yet. Instead Loki slid his way off the bed and onto the floor, holding up his arms to be hauled to his feet.

"Fine, then. Don't take a gift freely offered."

"It doesn't seem free. It seems like... Like a deal I don't understand. Stop playing with me and tell me what's going on."

"Uh-uh, you had your chance."

Before he could reach the door, Thor seized Loki around the waist and pulled him back from the door, holding him still in his lap. He couldn't be angry though, sighing in defeat but still with his arms gripping hard.

"I don't understand you, Loki," he said softly. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever will. But I know that you didn't want anything from me and then this morning... You set me up for it."

"I led you into temptation. It's what I do."

"But why? You know that I love you and that I... I have this strange desire in me. Why use all your tricks when you don't need to? The only explanation I can think of is that this is the Magpie, not you and therefore you don't really want this, which brings me back to my first question of why you would do this..."

Loki didn't furnish him with an answer, but threw his weight backwards, making them both sprawl on the bed.

"It will make sense, in time," he said, idly playing with a curl of his own hair.

"Well, until then, I think I'll abstain. And I'll thank you not to... interfere with me in the night again."

Loki laughed, low and rich, smiling.

"In all my days, I do not think anyone has ever accused me of interfering with them," he said. "And I doubt you'd say no if the same situation were to arrive."

Thor closed his eyes, despairing slightly.

"I'll play your games for your clients, but please don't make a toy of me," he said. "I love you. And maybe it is a strange, wrong love, but it is love all the same. I don't want... whatever this is."

"What do you want?"

What did he want? To be away from here. For Loki to be debt-free and not be driven to allow himself to be hurt for money. A safe place to live. A little bit of truth once in a while.

"I'm not sure."

Loki kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry I hide so much from you," he said, stretching. "But it is for your own good, you know. And I promise... Soon."

Soon, what? Soon he'd stop hiding things?

Or soon Thor was bound to succumb to his ample charms?


	28. Chapter 28

He could tell that Loki was up to something. The little, innocent touches continued in private but his demands in front of clients grew more and more outrageous every day.

Thor found himself nodding along to claims of sex acts that he didn't even understand. Words that he didn't know. No matter what Loki claimed, he went along with it.

And, of course, he let Loki kiss him now. Open-mouthed, passionate kisses, moans echoing in his ear. But he knew it wasn't real. If he ever drew back to find a look he thought was genuine, he would have welcomed such attention with open arms. As it was, he still found Loki dead behind the eyes, glazed, his knowing grins somehow awful. Like he was somewhere else entirely.

More than once, he walked into the kitchen to find Loki abruptly going quiet, like he'd been telling Clint something he didn't want Thor to hear. It was unnerving. And the fact that Clint wouldn't speak up either didn't help.

"If he wants to talk to you about it, he will."

Thor put his head in his hands. Loki was preparing for a client. He'd thought this was an opportune moment to ask and that he might actually get some answers. He needed to know. How could he make good decisions about what to do if he didn't know what Loki was really feeling and thinking?

"Every time I try to get the truth, he shuts down. Or he turns on the Magpie and I know it's not really him. I just... I just want him to trust me."

Clint tipped out his washing up basin, letting suds and dregs of whisky whirl away down the drain like so many lost days.

"He's scared," he said. "I'll tell you that much."

That had Thor sitting up urgently.

"Why?" he demanded. "What's he afraid of?"

Clint shrugged, but there was more to this he knew. Thor was sure of it.

"Well, he has a big show coming up. It's made him nervous."

Thor frowned. A big show? Bigger than normal? He hadn't heard about this.

"When?"

At least Clint had the decency to look a little sheepish. Maybe he hadn't meant to let as much slip as he had.

"Christmas Eve. The posters are ready for it. I'll need you to help me put them up around the neighbourhood by the end of the week."

Posters. Thor could hardly believe it. As far as he knew, the cabaret never put out advertisements. But here they were, very stylised, the suggestion of a nude form in white on a dark background, the lettering a splash of bright blue, like the jewelled flash of a real magpie's wing.

"'Live on stage as never seen in public before'," Thor read. "What does that mean?"

Clint shrugged, but crucially said nothing. Thor's suspicions were only heightened. And maybe, if he was honest with himself, he knew.

However, he decided now was the time for subtlty and caution. Loki was not responding to his direct questions. Oblique ones then. He would invite Loki to speak, give him the chance to demonstrate his intelligence.

After all, he wasn't the only one who knew how to use bait.

Thor waited until Loki had blown out the candle before shuffling close to him in the darkness.

"I'm curious about something," he murmured.

He felt Loki tense and then relax, ready for the purring response when it came on cue.

"Hmm? And what's that, brother?"

He thought his ploys had finally been successful. How disappointed he would be.

"Your gimmick," Thor said. "The money tunic. It's so unique. On the first night you performed it, how did the audience know to bring you offerings?"

He could practically hear the smile in Loki's voice. So proud of his own cleverness.

"It was simple really. I seeded the crowd. When I first arrived here, all fresh and shiny and new, I took so many clients. Often a few per day, which I would never do now. But only once, no repeats and no name for me. And I said to them all, if you want me again, come to the show on this date and bring me a present. Of course, Clint thought I was mad, borrowing takings back from him, making them into clothes... He had no idea of my vision. I brought in goods nearly twice the value of the outfit that night, not including bookings. The Magpie had hatched, as it were. Men who had seen me perform that night came back the next month, wanting a piece. I put my prices up. And before I knew it, I was in the guidebook."

"The... The guidebook?"

"Mmm. There's a kind of pamphlet they publish discussing the best acts around. I remember what they said, word for word. 'The Magpie is a fleeting creature, rarely upon the stage but demonstrating exquisite skills with his mouth in exchange for gifts of food or valuables. Gain entry to his private Nest, however, to find where the real treasure is hidden.' Demand shot up, especially from tourists. If I ever meet the author again, I'll probably give him a free session in exchange for such a glowing review."

Thor wrapped an arm loosely around Loki's waist, unsure how his next question would be received. Would it be answered or shot down?

"There's a big show on Christmas Eve, I hear," he said thoughtfully. "I saw the poster for it. You're doing something new."

Tense, shallow breathing from Loki now.

"It depends. I'm between two ideas."

"What ideas?"

A brief silence and then Loki rolled over, as if he could see Thor's face clearly in the darkness.

"You must promise not to react badly."

Fear rushed over Thor and he found himself gripping Loki's arm, trying to hold onto him.

"What? What are you going to do?"

A sigh.

"The boss, he... He wants more from me. He wants me to... be fucked on stage. And he wants you to be the one who does it."


	29. Chapter 29

Thor felt very cold despite the blanket and the warmth of Loki's body. Him, on stage, in front of people, doing... doing _that?_

Words died in his throat. He didn't know what to say, could barely put his thoughts in order.

It made sense now, Loki's blatant attempts at seduction. He'd been trying to get him used to the idea of them having sex, trying to normalise that before dropping this on him, probably framing it as just a bit of fun, just another game, not an order from on high.

"No," he managed. "No, I can't, not like that."

"I know. Don't worry. I'll make other arrangements. His second in command can do it. It's not a problem."

And yet the idea of another man up there made Thor's blood boil with jealousy. For what? Yes, he would have Loki's body but he wouldn't get what Thor craved, reciprocation of his feelings.

"I knew it wasn't real," he said. "All those advances you made. That's why I didn't want them."

Loki kissed him softly on the forehead, right in the delicate spot between his eyebrows.

"One day they might be real," he said thoughtfully. "I truly don't have any real objections to you fucking me."

Thor stammered slightly. How ought he respond to that?

"We're brothers," he managed uncertainly.

"I know. But, well, I find traditional morality doesn't have much going for it these days. I believe a great change is coming, maybe the end of the world as we currently know it. The whole atmosphere is churning and boiling. I think it will happen very soon, something... I don't know what, but something. The people are lost, frightened, and the government is treading water at best. Something has to give. The pressure is building and soon the shock will come. So before that happens, we ought to enjoy ourselves. That's what I think. You're handsome and you love me, you'd listen and give me what I wanted. I think it would be very enjoyable for all involved. But you want a deeper connection, one I don't feel yet. But I may. The idea is in my head now, the possibility of entertaining such feelings."

Thor's head was spinning. He didn't know where to begin. With the fact Loki found him attractive or...?

"Why do you think something terrible will happen?"

He felt the shrug in the movement of the blanket.

"I read the news. Our economic woes as a nation show no signs of abating. We will miss more war repayments. The French are already livid about that and will call on their allies to impose sanctions or similar, which will make daily life harder, which will make people angrier. The government will fall or tear itself apart. This decadence, this culture of all freedoms, it will not last when the war returns. When you have to put that uniform back on for a purpose."

"There will not be another war. There cannot be."

"Maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Certainly within the next twenty years. No one expected the last one but then a little treaty here, an assassination there, and suddenly it was all in, no holds barred. The fighting has stopped, but Europe is still snarling at its own tail."

Thor seized Loki's hands urgently.

"Then let's get out of Europe," he said. "Clint has a scheme to go to America. We could go too. Leave all this behind."

Loki let out a quiet laugh.

"Leave? Leave Germany? You do not speak a word of English, for a start. Besides, it would be maddeningly expensive. And I doubt they're welcoming too many penniless whores into their land. Probably have enough of their own. But anyway... Now you have answers."

"Not all of them."

"All the ones I feel inclined to give you for now. I need to sleep. And so do you. Goodnight."

He rolled away, leaving Thor staring into the darkness, thinking over all Loki had said. About them, about war...

Speculation, that was all. The world he'd come back to was vastly different to the one he'd left. It was a different era, the infighting between nations over colonies and empires surely consigned to history. No, Loki was wrong. There would not be another war.

He was no closer to uncovering the identity of the shadowy owner of the cabaret, but he would surely see him at Christmas. How far away was that? He'd fallen out of the habit of keeping track of days. He'd have to be cautious. He'd already put things awry by refusing to be part of this. It was probably not in his best interests to show his face. The wings, though... He could wait there, spot a rich man among the crowd. Find out if it was the tall man with the choking hands.

But more than anything, he considered the idea that Loki was not averse to the idea of feeling the same way as he did. He was not horrified by it, not anymore. Maybe one day they'd...

What a ridiculous scheme. Escape, live together as brothers and partners? If they got out of this strange world of dreams and nightmares, would Loki want him then? Was he only attractive as someone gentle, someone who asked for nothing but promised everything Loki could want? Was he merely appealing as the least bad option?

It was impossible to know. He could only act on what he knew.

He knew that it was not enough for Loki to have 'no real objections.' He wanted him to want it too, to feel what he felt.

He knew that Loki was all he had in the world, that protecting him was the most important thing.

He carefully held Loki close, gratified when his brother took his hand.

Survival. That was all they could hope for.

That's what he knew.


	30. Chapter 30

Thor felt like every time he thought he had a grip on something, something else changed. The whole world seemed different. He couldn't decide whether he was glad or not. On the one hand, he was glad that Loki had given him a crumb of truth, an explanation, but on the other, he still knew so little.

When he woke with his arms around his brother, he felt like a weight had lifted, but there were still stones upon his back.

The posters seemed to mock him as he walked from wall to wall with a brush and a bucket of thin glue boiled from calves' feet, plastering them to surface after surface. A grand spectacle, a great show. The Magpie finally plucked for all to see. He found a strange numbing in his core, his body automatically blocking out the sensation of the chill wind and snow falling, little crystals settling in his hair.

Loki loved snow. He would spend hours out in it when they were young if Mother let him, which she often didn't. Didn't want him to get sick. Instead he would watch it fall out of the window, watch as the world was covered in a thick white blanket.

He loved frost most of all though, how it made everything glitter and sparkle. The crunch of frozen grass underfoot. The way he could make it melt from twigs by blowing upon them. Simple pleasures. That was all they needed then.

True to form, Loki was sitting right up by the window watching the snow falling, smiling when Thor came in.

"You must hate this," he said apologetically, gesturing. "Must remind you of... Of Russia."

Thor shook his head.

"Different kind of snow. I never knew there were so many. Powder snow and wet snow of course, but more than that. Snow here, it's... It's pondering. It falls so leisurely, even when it's heavy. It floats. In Russia, the snow fell with purpose. Like it wanted to... to get you. This stuff just makes me think of home. How you loved playing in it."

"That snow was different to snow here. Remember how you could walk through it in the morning and by nightfall it would still be marked by your steps? I used to try to walk backwards in the same prints, so it looked like I'd left but not come back. Always scuffed them though. But here... There's so many people, your footprints get swallowed up right away. You can never see where you've been."

Thor pulled up a chair, sitting next to him. After a moment, Loki took his hand, turning it this way or that. Like he was examining it. How his smallest two fingers wrapped around the scars where Thor's were missing. Covering them. Hiding the past.

"Are you worried about the show?" Thor asked, feeling a need to fill the silence.

"Why would I be?"

"Because... Because it's different to what you've done before. And the crowd might be bigger than normal."

Loki shrugged.

"I know the man who's going to do it. I've had him before, quite a few times."

"What's his name?"

Loki didn't reply right away, watching the progress of a sparrow hopping along outside, leaving little fork marks in the snow. Then he drew his hand away.

"Why do you want to know? Does it matter?"

"I... I want to know what to expect. You know him, what he'll do. I just want to prepare myself for seeing it."

He could tell he'd misstepped. Loki was huffing and sighing, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Fine. I suppose you need to gird yourself for it. He'll... He won't say much. They'll bring through the bed from the Nest and he'll tie me down on it. And then he'll fuck me."

He made it sound so brutal. Blunt. A faceless man who would use him and leave. It made Thor's heart ache. Couldn't they see that Loki was made to be cared for, given all that he wanted, held close and caressed and kissed?

"Anyway," Loki continued. "With any luck, I'll attract enough of a crowd to make up for the last few months."

"Make up for them?"

"I've not been making enough money."

He was staring out of the window again, the sun setting somewhere behind the clouds turning the whole scene grey.

"But you've been charging more and more."

"I know, but not often enough. All my day-to-day lower bracket customers seem to have dried up. My income's dropped. So to make up the shortfall, he needs me to step up and do more. Maybe make stage fucking a regular thing. It's why he wanted you. Nowhere else has real brothers performing together. But I know you don't want to. And that's alright. I don't want to force you."

Thor felt sick. He'd been the one checking clients. He must have turned away so many men, assuming that his price hikes would make up for it, and now Loki was going to have to do this thing, allow this to happen to him.

This was his fault. Every second, every thrust, would be a sign of him failing his brother yet again.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You'd be too nervous anyway. Might not be able to get it up."

He couldn't bring himself to say that that hadn't been what he meant.


	31. Chapter 31

"Thor? Come on. I need you."

He could do nothing but follow Clint into the Nest, helping him heave the bed out of the door and onto the stage. The chaise was dragged back through to the kitchen, out of the way, and then Clint fetched the ropes.

Thor knew he was distracted. He couldn't help it. He'd woken up to find Loki staring at the ceiling, face blank, eyes glazed. Almost like a corpse. He couldn't even muster a smile when Thor spoke to him.

"I have to get ready," he'd said.

"It's not until tonight."

"I know. But I still have to get ready."

He didn't really eat dinner, just picked at his food before retreating upstairs.

And now Thor was helping set up the altar for his sacrifice.

Clint tied ropes to the bed posts, testing the strength of his knots by tugging harshly at them. Thor's stomach rolled. How much did he think Loki was going to struggle?

"This man..." Thor said. "The one who'll be here on the stage. You know him?"

"Of course."

"What's he like?"

Clint sighed. He seemed haggard, tired. This was a big night. He needed this to go well just as much as Loki did.

"Honestly, he's a sick bastard."

This was his fault. Loki was going to be hurt, he knew it. That's why he was behaving so strangely. He knew something bad was going to happen. He was preparing himself to get through it, pretending he enjoyed it.

What if other clients were in the audience and got ideas? What if they thought he really...?

"Hey," Clint said. "Don't look like that. Loki needs you to be strong for him. He needs you. Go see him. Make sure he's not climbing the walls. The wait... The wait is the worst. And try to make him eat something."

Thor obediently went to the kitchen and raided the pantry cupboard, taking some of the higher quality items from their hiding places too. Loki deserved it.

The snow was grey and slushy from people walking through it, but Loki was still gazing out at it. Watching the masses come and go. So many people with so many problems.

"You should eat," Thor said, putting the plate down by him.

Loki looked at it dispassionately but at least swallowed some of it. He seemed to be retreating into himself. Hiding away.

"You shouldn't do this," Thor said. "You can't. It's not right."

"If I don't, he'll add more to my debts. Put up the interest rate for delays."

Thor sat on the bed, watching Loki's face for any trace of emotion.

"What does he have over you, Loki? What happened?"

A sigh. Loki couldn't even look at him, it seemed.

"I made mistakes," he said. "I've made so many fucking mistakes. I'm still making them, right now."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

Loki laughed. It came upon him suddenly, like a convulsion. His eyes were screwed shut, his shoulders shaking.

"Not mistakes like I make," he said, getting up and crawling past Thor into the bed. "I need to sleep. Will you hold me? I think it will help."

How could he say no? Thor scooped him into his arms, pillowing his head on his shoulder, stroking his hair until his breathing settled. At least he could give him a little peace. A little respite. He wished he could do more, wished the idea didn't fill him with dread. Wished he could match Loki's strength.

He must have dozed himself for he woke up in the dark when Loki moved to light his lamp, watching as he undressed and opened a drawer of his dressing table.

Oil. He was preparing.

"Do you want some privacy?" Thor asked.

"Just shut your eyes. It's fine."

He felt the bed dip, heard Loki sighing and grunting, strange squelching sounds that made his stomach crawl. It was so perfunctory. He could hardly bear it.

Light splashing as Loki rinsed his hand in his little shaving basin.

"Will you brush my hair for me?"

Inky strands like silk flowed through his fingers, smoothing the evidence of sleep away. In the mirror, shadows danced over Loki's face, making him look so strange. Resigned. Jaw set.

"I'm ready," he said, standing up abruptly.

"Are you sure?"

But Loki was already out the door.


	32. Chapter 32

There were other performers up first, of course. Women and a few men, dancing, stripping, other more explicit acts. But everyone knew Loki was the main attraction. Thor followed him downstairs, seeing the tension in his back, how nervous he was, wishing there was something he could do to help.

Lewis was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, holding Loki's fur in readiness

"It's packed," she whispered. "I've never seen so many people in here."

Loki snatched the coat and pulled it on, closing his eyes firmly before putting on a winning smile, sweeping out through the curtains to cheers and applause.

Thor and Lewis snuck around to the wings, hearing Loki's words as he addressed the crowd. He'd transformed. Become the Magpie.

"Now I know some of you darlings have been waiting for this day for a long, long time," he purred, pacing the stage. "So tell me... Should I get on with it or let you stew some more?"

They screamed for him. Thor found himself almost proud in a bizarre way. Loki had built his myth, fabricated this personality and now had them eating out of the palm of his hand, making them call out louder and louder before throwing the coat to the floor, posing and displaying.

"Of course, I can't do this by myself," he said. "And alas my darling brother is unable to tend to me tonight."

Booing for that. It seemed several men had assumed that was what the posters implied. Loki held up his hands, placating.

"But I have someone else to hand who wants to, uh... cool me down a little."

Thor knew it would be the tall man. He knew. And yet his hackles rose when he saw him walk out, glowering. He did not fit with Loki's sparkle. He didn't complement him at all. Loki giggled, attempting to pull him close as though they were intimate, but got shoved away onto the bed.

"Ooh!" he said, eyes darting with nerves that came nowhere near his voice. "Eager, are we, Ronan?"

"Shut up."

Loki rolled onto his back, arching, kicking his legs delicately.

"Why don't you see if you can make me hoarse?"

The man - Ronan - prowled around the bed, glaring, glancing out at the crowd, like he was waiting for a nod. Then he yanked Loki upright and span him around, pushed him onto his front and set about restraining him.

His chest was heaving, face flat against the bed, tugging on the ties apparently playfully but with real concern in his eyes. Thor's fists were clenched. This wasn't right. This was too rough, too much...

"I normally prefer being on my back," Loki said, looking back over his shoulder.

Ronan shoved his face down, provoking a yelp that sounded too real for Thor to bear.

"Hoarse?" he was saying, wrapping a hand around Loki's throat from behind, bending his neck, looking close to snapping it. "I'll make you hoarse alright."

Loki choked and Thor felt the rage descend. He vaguely registered Lewis trying to hold him back before he rushed out onto the stage, grabbing Ronan and dragging him away.

"You leave my brother alone," he growled.

Ronan took a step forward. Thor punched him in the face.

"Leave him alone!"

The crowd clearly didn't know what to think, whether this was just part of the show or not, but Thor wasn't paying attention to them. He was busy untying Loki's bonds, turning him over and pulling him upright.

"Are you alright?" he asked, holding him automatically. "Are you hurt?"

He almost flinched away when he felt Loki undoing his trousers.

"Please," Loki said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "Please, I want you. I want you, not him. I need you."

Thor looked into his face, the wide eyes, the pleading, and he knew.

He had to do it. He knew he had to. For Loki. To protect him. He'd failed to protect him so badly. If he didn't, the consequences could be unbearable.

He began removing his clothes and a cheer went up. Loki's eyes raked over his body, grinning with relief, biting his lip and holding out his arms to pull Thor close.

"Do it," he whispered in his ear as he stroked his cock rapidly to thickness. "Don't worry. Don't even think about it. Just do it."

Thor felt his cock brush against oil-slick skin, almost unable to breathe. This was really happening, wasn't it?

"Mmm, brother..." Loki said loudly, performing as he lounged back on the bed. "Shove it into me. Come on. I need it."

His eyes still had a trace of concern in them. He needed Thor to hold his nerve, to play along with him, to make the lie real.

"What do you need?"

Loki grinned at him.

"Your cock. I need you to fuck me."

He nodded imperceptibly and Thor gritted his teeth, pushing forwards.

He gasped. He had imagined doing this with Loki, dreamt of it, but he hadn't realised how it would feel. So snug. So hot inside, so smooth. Loki let out a moan, arching upwards, showing off the length of his body as Thor began to move, clumsy thrusts, trying to cover his inexperience.

"Yes... Oh, yes, Thor... Oh, fuck me. Fuck me. Ah!"

That was a good noise. Thor liked that noise. He wanted more of that, tried to repeat the same action again to make him cry out.

"More... Ah, more..."

Thor couldn't resist, he leant down to capture Loki's lips, kissing him without any finesse, his hips moving of their own accord, trying to get impossibly deeper. Loki moaned happily, hands roaming all over him, a damp feeling where his cock was leaking between their stomachs.

He was making that happen, Thor marvelled. He was pleasing Loki for real, he was making it happen, making him feel good.

And that panting by his ear, that was _real,_ he knew it. He could tell. He'd heard Loki fake it. This was real.

"Loki... Oh, Loki..."

"I know."

How long did they remain like that, locked together? Thor wasn't sure. He could barely hear the crowd anymore. He could only hear and feel and see his brother, lips parted around moans, lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

"I'm going to spill..." Loki said, almost laughing, like he couldn't quite believe it.

Thor was suddenly aware of their audience again, pulling back, wrapping a hand around his cock.

"Should I do it?" he asked the room at large, gazing down into Loki's needy eyes. "Shall I make him come?"

Mixed response. Some wanted him to prolong it, to keep going, but Thor knew he wouldn't last much longer. He listened to the people who wanted him to finish things and began to stroke Loki's cock, knowing he was probably making a terrible job of it, but not really worrying. Loki was panting and arching, squealing when Thor pinched one of his tempting nipples with his other hand.

"Oh, God... Yes, yes, please..."

"Come on," Thor murmured. "Brother, come on."

It was like he'd been waiting for that, crying out as he came, staining his skin and making Thor moan as his body clamped down hard.

"Pull out," Loki breathed. "Pull out, spill on me. Cover me in it."

Dazed, Thor obeyed, adding to the mess on Loki's stomach, pulling him close as the crowd cheered and hoping against hope that somehow everything would be alright.


	33. Chapter 33

He picked Loki up and carried him backstage, away from the lights and all those eyes. He wasn't sure how he was going to react, what was going to happen now as he set him on his feet.

"I can't believe you did that," Loki said.

"Was it alright? I mean... Was it?"

He had to be beetroot as Loki laughed and cupped his cheeks.

"You did very well. But now we might be in a world of trouble."

Lewis appeared with a towel and Loki's furs, letting him wipe himself off and cover himself up.

"That was amazing," she said, rushing to fetch Thor's clothes from where he'd dumped them on the stage. "The way you punched Ronan right on the jaw? Wow! And the sex? I mean, even I was feeling it."

Thor was mortified. He'd just... He'd done it, his first time with a man - more than that, with Loki - and in front of all those people. He had to be sick or mad or something. 

He hurriedly got dressed and followed Loki through to the kitchen, surprised to find Ronan there, nursing what would soon be an impressive bruise.

"You're in for it now, slut," he growled. "You know Thanos doesn't appreciate showing weakness."

Loki shrugged, smiling blissfully.

"Threaten me after the afterglow has worn off. It'll work better that way, maybe."

He was bluffing, Thor knew, but he had to back him up. He'd come this far - what was a little more?

"How's your face?" he asked, sliding onto the chaise and letting Loki clamber into his lap. 

They were a team now. He felt stronger just for having his brother there, sure that Loki felt the same. Together, they could do anything.

"I've killed for less," Ronan said.

Thor believed him, but Loki scoffed.

"I think my prices might just have gone up," he said. "And we're a package now. I wouldn't if I were you."

Thor felt the shivers of worry again suddenly. Loki had seemed pleased, ecstatic that he'd stepped in, but what if he was only happy because his income was about to rise? What if... What if he hadn't really liked it?

He knew that he wanted to... Well, to experiment in private. To find out what Loki truly enjoyed, how to really make him feel good. He didn't want just a relationship on the stage, but one just for themselves.

Which meant, if the survived tonight, they were going to have to talk about this.

He startled at the sound of the door opening behind then, Clint running in with a tray of empty glasses, pulling down the good liquor, the freshest bread, all the best things they had.

"He's coming," he said quietly.

"How's his mood?" Loki asked.

"Difficult to say."

Loki pulled Thor's arm around his waist, using him like a shield. How monstrous was this Thanos? How had he taken control over his tricksy, smart brother? How much danger were they in?

"Let me do the talking," Loki said quietly. "No matter what happens. Let me handle it."

Thor squeezed him lightly as the sound of someone clapping slowly behind him somehow managed to echo around the cluttered kitchen. Clint was busying himself by getting a head start on the night's glasses, apparently trying very hard to pretend he wasn't there.

It was almost impossible to resist the urge to look. Thor's neck tingled with the sensation of being looked at, feeling Loki's quick, nervous breathing beneath his hand.

"So..." a voice like gravel, like sandpaper. "I thought you said he'd refused to play ball?"

"I persuaded him," Loki said. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

A hum and the man came into view. Thor knew he was being impudent, refusing to avert his gaze as he took in the heavy jaw, the crags of wrinkles and pockmarks of old injuries, the expensive suit and scent of ostentatious perfume. Yes, this Thanos looked almost exactly as he'd expected. A big fish pretending to be a shark, not the parasite he really was.

"I must admit, I was impressed."

Loki let out an amused sigh, teetering on the edge of Thor's lap as he leant forward, elbows casually on the table.

"And how much is it worth to you," he asked. "To have the only act of this kind in all of Berlin?"

"Worth something, I'll admit. You fabricated quite a legend for yourself. A wonderful saga."

"How soon could we wipe out his debts with this?" Thor asked.

Thanos looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl. Like he could see all of him, the twisted love he had for Loki, the deep, dark secrets of his very soul.

"What debts would those be?"

Thor felt his stomach drop to the floor.


	34. Chapter 34

For a moment, none of them moved. Even Clint seemed frozen, listening, water dripping from his hands.

"The... The debts," Thor stammered. "The money he owes you, the reason he's doing this."

A smile spread across Thanos's face, a tiger catching its prey.

"Oh, those. Well, he paid those off long ago."

Thor's eyes seemed to dart about the place, unable to settle on any one thing. The table, the floor, the edge of Loki's coat...

"It's not what you think," Loki said quietly.

He couldn't believe this. He wouldn't believe it. Because that would mean Loki wasn't held here, wasn't a prisoner, that he had chosen this... No, there was something else, some other explanation. There had to be.

"Oh, dear, Loki," Thanos said. "Didn't I always tell you that honesty is the best policy?"

"Was that before or after teaching me to hold my breath long enough to have a man come down my throat? I passed out so often in those early days that I can barely recall."

Thor couldn't say anything. His mind was whirling too much. He needed an explanation and he needed it now.

"I'm a wealthy man," Thanos said, watching him curiously, like he was vaguely interested in emotions from an outside perspective. "With many properties and businesses. And it's true that your brother owed me rather a lot of payment in kind for losing an important asset of mine. But he's a hard worker. He repaid me, with interest, in a matter of months. And then he made me an offer. He wanted to purchase one of my theatres. A lease agreement of sorts. Every Mark he earned going towards paying for it. A long-term purchase is not quite the same as a debt, or so I think. He could back out of it at any time, cut his losses and leave. For reasons I can't quite explain, I admired his gall and agreed that so long as he maintained a steady payment schedule, I would not alter the terms of the deal, even if property prices were to fluctuate. He moved in and began working and is probably within two or three years of owning this cabaret."

"One year," Loki said. "With my new gimmick."

Thor's blood boiled. He'd been had. Tricked and lied to and fooled, made to believe in something pretend. Loki would never love him. He was just another gimmick. Just another way to make money.

"Get off me," he said softly, pushing Loki away.

"Thor..."

"No."

He found himself half pinned to the chair, Loki refusing to let him get up without a fight, huge eyes pleading with him. But could he trust them? Could he trust his brother?

"Please. I will explain it to you, all of it, I promise."

"But you've already lied to me! You said you were a prisoner here. You said they'd punish you if you left. You said they'd break your legs. You..."

"I told you what you wanted to hear. You wanted me to be a helpless victim and so that's what I gave you. Until a few months ago, _you were dead._ I had to make it on my own, however I could. Don't go. I will make you see."

"You could have tried to make me see before."

"You wouldn't have understood!"

Loki sighed, frustrated.

"I fell into this work," he said. "But I am so good at it. You don't even know how good I am. I can run this place, make it my own. But I have to be subtle about it. I can't be just another boss, another pimp, or it won't work. But just imagine it - the announcement goes out that the cabaret is closing, Clint is leaving to be with his family, the theatre will close and with it goes a major source of income for many, but then... Then I swoop in. I pawn or sell all the set dressing jewellery and I keep it open. The other performers trust me because I'm one of them. I can attract the best in the business. They never need to know that this was always the plan. And then I choose who I take to the Nest. I decide who gets to have me. Maybe I decide... that only you ever have me."

No, no, no... No, not like this.

"Don't try to buy me, Loki."

The hurt in his face made Thor's heart ache, but he tried to be strong and hold out against it. Loki could make people believe whatever he wanted. He could easily be pretending.

And this still didn't make sense.

"You let them hurt you," he said desperately, gesturing to Ronan. "You let him hurt you."

"He pays a lot of money for the right to hurt me."

It was like a knife to his heart, a horrible stabbing pain. Was that it? Was that all he cared about? The money? The building? What about it was worth such a price?

"You're exhausted," he heard Loki say. "You should go to bed. You'll think more clearly if you sleep."

Thor blinked once or twice. He had nowhere else to go. The snow outside would kill him, no doubt, so unused to it as he was. He could risk it?

But then what? No family, no home, no Loki. No purpose.

He stood up, forcibly dislodging Loki from his lap and walked away, only turning back when he was in the doorway.

"I'll sleep in the room opposite Lewis," he said. "As future owner, I trust you can cover the cost."

He climbed the stairs before he could change his mind either way, to retreat into their shared room or to leave completely or to go back downstairs and try shaking sense into his brother.

No. Loki was right about one thing. He'd take his shattered heart up to a proper bed for one more night and make his decision in the morning.


	35. Chapter 35

Thor became distantly aware of yelling somewhere under his head. That was highly irregular. Eventually he managed to extract himself from the pillows and remember the events of the night before.

Saving Loki. Their first time together being live on stage, far from the private, loving experience that he had fantasised about. The awful, awful revelation afterwards that this was all a lie...

He stared up at the ceiling, realising that was Clint shouting downstairs. Had he known the truth? Presumably not. Which lead to more concerns. Clint did not know how much money he had saved. Perhaps he had passed his target long ago. Was he being held here as caretaker until Loki had successfully purchased the cabaret? He would not be best pleased at that.

Worse, if all of Loki's profits went towards that, had a hefty chunk of his two percent share just vanished?

Well, the crack in the plaster wasn't giving him any answers. He was considering his next plan of action when he heard running footsteps go past the door of the room he was in. With a horrible heavy feeling in his stomach and heart, he heaved himself upright, slowly trudging his way up to the attic.

He didn't bother knocking. Just walked in and found an all-too familiar scene; Loki face down on the bed, sobbing gently. He looked up when Thor closed the door, the very picture of misery.

"I suppose you want to shout at me now?" he said mournfully.

Thor took the chair, not wanting to be too close. But strangely, he couldn't find much anger. He was just sad. Disappointed.

"Clint didn't know, did he?" he asked, his own calm surprising him.

Loki wiped his face irritably, rolling onto his back.

"He didn't need to know. He'd have been happy. He'd have got all he wanted in time and so would I. Never mind the minor details of how it came about."

And that was the crux of it, the one thing Thor didn't understand.

"Why do you want this, Loki? Why do you want to own this place?"

A sigh. Loki looked away from him, eyes distant.

"This place is stable. Nothing else is. No other business is guaranteed to be sustainable, but in a world of such misery and pain, people will always want thrills and the comforts of flesh. Doing this, selling my body, being a whore if you want to call it that, is therefore both the easiest and most secure way for me to sustain myself. And if that is the case, I want to be my own boss, in control of my own money. But I still want the protection of a group operation. It's better to be in here, with beds and bookings and schedules, than chancing the streets."

Thor nodded vaguely. He could follow the force of Loki's argument, both his overall plan and this underlying desire for stability. But still...

"You think the world is headed for disaster," he said quietly. "Or Europe, anyway. Why not just get out before that?"

"With what money? I do intend to save, you know. Not money, of course, not money. Money is nothing. But something tangible. Jewels. Gold. Shares. I don't know, but something, so when the shit comes down, we can get out."

 _We..._ Loki was still thinking of them as a team. Thor wasn't quite sure yet. He needed more, needed to feel valued as an equal partner, not just a convenient loyal fool who wouldn't question anything.

"You need to be honest with me, Loki. About everything. I need to feel like... Like you trust me."

"Do you trust me?"

Thor hesitated.

"Not at the moment," he admitted. "Not anymore."

Loki closed his eyes, air rushing from his lungs. He didn't breathe for a moment, gasping in an exhale like he was surfacing from under water.

"I suppose I've no one to blame for that but myself."

Silence stretched between them for a time before Loki sat up, setting his jaw but still slipping under the blankets, like he was trying to be brave but looking for comfort all the same.

"And I suppose I ought to tell you the whole story," he said.


	36. Chapter 36

"You were dead, as far as I was concerned. The war ended, the treaties were signed, soldiers came home but you didn't. I couldn't keep up the rent of the house on my own and Sif took me in but... I couldn't deal with it. I was... I was lost. No matter what happened, Mother and Father dying, the bad winters, I had always taken comfort in believing that you were coming home. And you didn't. So I decided to leave, to run away, start a new life somewhere else.

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed. Or if I'd gone anywhere else but Berlin. But... Well, there's no point wondering. This is where I am. I just have to live with it now.

"I arrived in 1919 with a little money. Not much. Even selling the piano hadn't got me very much, it just... It wasn't really worth anything. Too old, too battered. Some of the strings had gone. But I thought I'd be able to support myself for at least a while, find a job, make it.

"I had no skills, no contacts. No hope. My money ran out within a month. I spent my days walking from building to building looking for work, any work. Domestic service, book keeping, records, anything. Nothing came my way for a long time. I don't even know how long.

"Eventually, I ended up with a job as a sort of courier. I took packages here, there and everywhere. I knew it wasn't legitimate. It was drugs or black market goods or something. Naturally, I was curious, so I started to open some of the packets. Heroin and the like didn't interest me. Expensive habits. But sometimes it was food. And that got me thinking. Who would notice a little chocolate going missing? A slice of bread? A little here, a little there...

"I got greedy. Maybe part of me knew that it couldn't last. But that's the bottom line. I started taking more and more. I should have known they were on to me when I stopped getting food packets. The thefts must have stopped. They knew it was me. I knew I was a thief.

"A few crumbs evidently weren't worth punishing me for though. I'd bought my smart suit in my first week in Berlin, so I appeared to be a neat young man. No one looked at me twice wherever I went. And I was fast. I was useful.

"After a while, I was summoned before the big boss. Thanos. I was so nervous, so sure that I was going to be dismissed or worse for having stolen from them. But he said he was pleased with me and that I would be getting more important work. Jewels and other valuables. They travel in and out of the city, paying for goods, being used as insurance. All I had to do was move them around and not ask questions.

"I don't know what possessed me to do it. It was a moment of madness. They gave me a package, a tiny one. Much smaller than normal. Usually, there were several items per delivery, so I wanted to know what was in it.

"A necklace. A sapphire set in gold, huge and square, draping pearls along the chain. Like nothing I'd ever seen. But they would hardly miss it, surely. Just one item? It surely couldn't be worth very much. I didn't think so and neither did the pawn broker I sold it to. I told my handlers that I had been robbed. I even paid a young boy on the street to punch me, make it look convincing.

"There was panic. The necklace was so important. I had no idea, I was just pleased to have a little extra cash in my pocket. But, of course, someone found it. They knew which pawn shops the thieves frequented, they tracked it down easily. They asked who had brought it in, asked to see the signature. I hadn't even thought to use a false name. Stupid. Stupid and naive and... 

"Turns out the necklace was the personal property of Augusta Victoria, the Empress. She and the Kaiser fled to the Netherlands after the war but were keen to have their possessions returned, even through improper channels. How was I to know it was a Prussian crown jewel? I knew nothing. And pretty soon, I practically was nothing.

"I don't know why they didn't just kill me. I wouldn't be the first or the last. But Thanos saw something in me, I suppose. A ruthlessness, a survival instinct, I don't know. He said that though the debt had been recovered, I still owed him, but that he'd be merciful. I could work it off.

"I moved into his townhouse. The attic. And then I started to learn... Well, all sorts. How to hold my breath. How to smile and laugh and act like I wanted anyone. How to prepare myself for... Well, you know. And gradually, I... I came to like it in a strange way.

"I thought I was losing myself, but I might have been finding something out about who I really am. No matter who it was, the most powerful men in Europe, they're all much the same when you get their trousers off. And I could reduce them to whimpering wrecks with just my throat. I found a power in it. A strength. And so when my debts were paid, I made Thanos an offer. I'd buy one of his theatres. Run it for myself. He could set the price. I would pretend to be just another worker, pretend I was owned, not leave the building without a chaperone... I would build a whole story, a whole new stage identity, and then rise to the top like a grimy little Aschenputtel.

"What a deal. I'd effectively bound myself to him for another five, six, seven years. If I couldn't keep up the payments, he'd be able to keep all the cash and the building too. He could still send his cronies to see me, still offer me up as a potential bribe to new business partners. And, yes, it's been hard. I haven't been able to pick and choose my clients as much as I might have expected. But... But I'm so close. I've come too far to stop now.

"I will overhaul this place. I'll make it different, so much better. Safer for performers and workers, fairer distribution of funds, but saving up so we can leave. I have a reason to leave now. You're here. You're alive.

"So I need to know... are you with me, Thor? Can I rely on you? Will you help me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have entirely made up the Prussian royal family buying back their stuff from Berlin, by the way. Any historical fact in this chapter is entirely coincidental, except that they did flee into the Netherlands. I guess if you lead your country into a war on borrowed money and then left the population decimated and the economy in shreds, that's basically the only logical step to take.
> 
> Also well done to everyone who guessed a big blue gem stone would get Loki into trouble! I am not subtle.


	37. Chapter 37

Thor still couldn't shake his misgivings. He was strangely proud of Loki, how he'd taken what could so easily have broken him and found a way to make himself steel and stone. But he'd lied. He had deceived people who were supposed to be his friends. He'd deceived his brother, someone who he should surely have faith in.

And his heart still ached for that. No matter how much he claimed otherwise, Thor would probably never fully believe that Loki could grow to love him, not in the same way anyway. He could fake love, could manufacture desire. How could he ever trust a man whose great talent was making others believe he wanted them?

But he knew, as he took Loki's hand, he couldn't leave now. For so long, he'd only had one goal, getting home to family. This might not be quite what he'd imagined, but he couldn't afford to reject it now. He couldn't.

Loki sniffed and squeezed his hand, shuffling sideways and pulling Thor close.

"Come here," he murmured.

Thor was wary, not wanting Loki to feel like he had to reward him for making his mind up, but he was glad when they just held one another, simple touch, communing in some unspoken way.

Their peace was rather shattered when Clint slammed the door open.

He paused for a moment, sighed, and threw a heavy set of keys onto the foot of the bed.

"I'm leaving," he said. "You might be able to fool your lovelorn brother, but not me. I'm getting out. If we ever meet again, I'll be very surprised."

"Clint..." Thor started, half-rolled over to face him.

"No. Let him go. He's done enough here," Loki said. "I trust you'll write?"

Clint scoffed and closed the door, the distant thumps of him dragging a suitcase downstairs fading into quiet.

"What are we going to do?" Thor asked.

With Clint gone, there would be uncertainty from the other performers, destabilisation of this stable place.

"Be honest, for once?" Loki said, pulling him close again, tangling their legs. "Not about everything, of course, but just that I am working to buy the cabaret and make a better deal for all of us. Reassure everyone that things will be well while I'm working behind the scenes."

That made sense, but Thor couldn't help himself. Like a moth circling a flame, he knew he'd be burned, but he couldn't help it...

"And you and me?"

Loki shifted and closed his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You were better than I expected," he said. "Not at the sex, I knew you'd be wonderful there. Passion always begets quite an experience. But the act. The performance. I thought you might freeze, but, well... You liked it, didn't you?"

Thor pouted slightly for all that he knew Loki couldn't see it.

"What do you mean?"

"You liked having all those others see you claim me. You played along with the story that we'd been doing that for years."

"I had to. I thought it was a matter of life and death. I didn't feel like I had a choice other than to make the best of it. But I... I liked hearing you. Not the words, I know you summon those up for anyone. But the way you breathed... That sounded real. And I was doing it to you."

His cock twitched a little at the memory, not understanding the message from his brain that such things were firmly off the table until they had talked properly.

"As I said, you were very passionate. You tried hard and you did very well."

"But it still wasn't real."

Loki sighed, rubbing at his temples.

"My enjoyment was real. My reactions were real. But that's not what you mean and we both know it. My feelings for you are not so deep as yours are for me and I will not lie to you about that. I won't insult you by pretending."

He ought to be grateful, Thor knew, but it still hurt. It still stung to know his heart was screaming out and only receiving a courteous nod in response.

"You're cross with me," Loki said, eyes still closed.

"No," Thor said. "Just... I'm glad for your candour but still saddened by the facts."

"Might I suggest a little help with your sadness and mine?"

Thor was unsure, especially when Loki began unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked, heartbeat rising quickly.

"No show. No pretending. No one watching. Just you and me."

"But..."

"Just us, making each other feel good. You can say no if you want."

And maybe Thor would have if Loki hadn't rolled on top of him at that moment and given him a sudden image of having him nude and wanting, thighs clamped tightly to either side of Thor's hips as he took his pleasure. The thought made his cock jerk for all that it wasn't yet beyond slight thickening.

He could feel Loki's smile against his lips when he pulled him into a messy kiss.

This was probably a terrible idea.


	38. Chapter 38

It was so different to their first time. That had been built for display, made for others to watch, with none of the reality of what usually came before the act.

Loki stripped them both quickly, appraising Thor's body, tracing his ribs through the new flesh that was just beginning to develop there before fetching his oil from the dressing table.

"I hope Clint has receipts of where he bought this from," he said. "Or maybe one of the others knows..."

"Ssh. Don't talk about that, not now."

Thor took the bottle from him. He felt a strange desire to prove himself different from all the others and how better to do that than to perform each act himself including preparation?

Of course, he wasn't quite sure how to do that...

"Was I your first?" Loki asked, picking up on his confusion perhaps.

"My first man, yes."

"Hmm. I should teach you then. Go slowly and gently. Just one finger to start."

It was so easy to obey, listening as Loki told him what to do, how to prepare him, how to stretch the tight muscles, where to press...

"Mmm... Mmm, yes, there... Oh, can you feel that?"

He could, a little piece of flesh that felt different than the rest, a little nub inside, and touching it made Loki keen and his cock leak beautifully. Thor could have spent hours, days perhaps, making him cry out from such touches. It was so easy to make him feel good. Why didn't everyone do this for him?

Leaning on his elbow at Loki's side, he could mark even the subtlest of changes in expression, the sighs slipping through barely parted lips, eyebrows slightly pinched, eyes fluttered shut. He couldn't resist, he had to lay kisses on Loki's face. Not just his lips but his brow and cheek, the shell of his ear, the tip of his nose. Exploring. Loki laughed at him, biting his lip and rolling his hips up into Thor's hand once more.

"Lay back," he said, pushing at Thor's shoulder. "I'm ready."

Thor was nervous as he obeyed, more nervous still as Loki slicked up his cock, making a little humming noise. Was that a good noise? Did he like the look of it?

"What?" Loki asked, crawling up his body.

"No, it's... It's nothing."

"What, Thor?"

"Just you've seen so many... penises. I wondered how I..."

"How you measure up?" Loki laughed. "Oh, brother. It's fine. You're fine. It's a nice size, perfectly adequate. A fact I now intend to prove to you."

He seized Thor's wrists and pushed them up to beside his head, pinning them into the pillows.

"Stay still. Stay like that. Let me take care of you."

Thor wanted to touch, wanted to feel, but he knew Loki liked to be in charge and so obediently held himself in position as Loki sat up, reached back and...

"Mmm... Oh, that's nice."

He was gasping, unable to get enough air in his lungs as the sensation and sight of Loki taking him inside his body flowed through him. His shame at having his wicked vision made flesh seemed to only make his desire burn fiercer. If he was to be damned for this love, he might as well do things worth the damning.

The first roll of his hips made Thor whine with pleasure. Loki had been generous with the oil and the delicious slickness around his cock was matched in intensity by the heat and pressure of Loki's channel.

"God... Oh, fuck, Loki..."

"Yes, tell me how good I am. Tell me what you want to do to me."

So much. He wanted everything. He wanted this, he wanted to hold Loki close always, he wanted to protect him from all harm, he wanted...

"Thor? Has my arse taken away your power of speech? Surely it's not so spectacular as all that?"

Fishing for compliments and far too put together considering he was moving constantly, his heavy breathing the only sign that he was affected.

Well, that and the steady stream of prespend gathering on Thor's stomach.

"It's good... Oh, it's so good."

Loki hummed lightly, palms spread across Thor's chest like he was holding him down. His motions were so practised, so smooth, experimenting with angles until he moaned, chasing that same spot again and again.

"Touch me," he murmured, so softly that Thor almost thought he'd imagined it as he reached out and ran his hands up Loki's thighs, up to his hips, feeling the muscles moving so purposefully. He knew exactly what he was doing and Thor felt so clumsy in comparison.

Pleasing Loki, that was the most important thing. He had managed to stroke him to completion on stage, but he wanted to learn exactly how Loki liked it best, how he pleased himself, wrapping his good hand around his cock almost shyly.

"Yes..." Loki hissed. "Oh, yes. Faster."

His hips were certainly moving more quickly, the torturous steady rolls giving way to short bounces, his breath coming in thick pants as Thor stroked him as best he could, willing him to spill, wanting to be marked with it.

And Loki had asked him to voice his desires...

"I want you to spend on my skin," he said. "I want you to mark me. I want to smell like you and belong with you and... Ah, fuck..."

Loki's body was practically rippling around him, a tightening he had felt for the first time only last night. It thrilled him to know that he was doing that, he was going to make Loki come.

"Inside," Loki gasped. "Please, do it inside, I need... Oh, _Thor..._ "

It was the cry that finished him. The sound of Loki calling out his name in pleasure, knowing it was real and just for him... He threw his head back, his hips slamming upwards, as deep as he could go, trying hard to make his hand keep going, keep moving. Loki slapped him away, finishing himself with a groan before falling forwards into Thor's arms.

It was hard to kiss while out of breath, but Thor was determined to manage it, trying to pour out his emotions into each brush of lips, clinging to his brother so tightly, trying to make him feel it too.

"It's Christmas," Loki said, half against his chest once they'd finally collapsed together.

So it was. Thor hadn't marked one since going to Russia. He'd never known when it was. Winter had always seemed to last forever, no day in particular seeming different from any other.

"I didn't get you anything," he said apologetically.

Loki kissed his chest, right in the dip above his heart.

"I think having you on my side probably counts."


	39. Chapter 39

There was trouble brewing. Of course there was. Clint's departure was bound to leave a strange sense of unease over the house, uncertainty and confusion reigning.

Gossip seemed to spread unbelievably quickly and soon enough, Lewis was opening the door, not even caring that they were nude and the room had a distinctive scent of carnal activity about it.

"Clint's gone," she stammered as Thor tried to burrow into the blankets, blushing hotly as if she could see beneath to his bare skin.

Loki yawned and stretched, woken from the light doze he'd been taking half on top of Thor.

"Yes, darling, I'm aware."

"Well, what are we going to do?"

An annoyed grunt from Loki.

"I am going to sleep some more and have a late Christmas dinner. We can split Clint's portion. And then I'm going to organise a meeting and tell you all what is going to happen next."

Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps she didn't trust this. Or certainly found Loki's calm strange considering their in-house minder had just walked out on them.

"What are you up to?" she asked.

Thor found himself being used as a mattress, Loki rolling onto his back fully on top of him, finding a way to fit his body into the dips and curves of his brother's. He took Thor's hand, the left one, bringing it out from beneath the covers so he could examine it as he spoke.

"How would you like to be part of a union, Darcy Lewis?"

"A union? What, like a marriage? Believe you me, I've had better proposals than that."

Loki giggled, his shoulder blades digging into Thor's chest, his fingers stroking over the scar tissue at the top of his palm.

"Like a family. I'm going to take this place over, but not how it used to be. Collective responsibility. We make money to buy all we need, but our people - our workers and performers - get a better deal. No more surcharges for using the spare beds. Safer and better."

She still seemed suspicious. And rightly so, Thor thought. He wasn't sure about this talk of a collective. Loki was just trying to tell her what she'd want to hear. Trying to make it sound like the answer to her prayers.

"What time for dinner?" she asked.

Loki sighed gently.

"Two hours?" he said. "Let me wake up properly. I've had an active morning."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

There was a brief pause, Lewis still anxiously wringing her hands.

"I just hope you know what you're doing. What you're getting yourself into. What you're getting us all into."

She closed the door far more carefully than she'd opened it and left them in peace, Loki wiggling just a little before huffing.

"What do I have to do to get a little cuddling around here?"

Thor obediently scooped him up, rolling them both onto their sides, burying his nose in Loki's hair. He couldn't decide what he was feeling, a strange clawing deep in his stomach warring with the intense calm he felt at being able to hold Loki safe in his arms.

But how long for? Now that Loki would have to take on running the cabaret himself, his clients would become his contacts. Without Clint as a middleman, how would he cope in dealing with them? After all, how many of those proud, cruel businessmen would do business with someone they took to bed...?

"Your muscles twitch when you're worried," Loki said. "Either spit it out or go back to sleep."

Given that he couldn't face trying to articulate his feelings, certainly not in a way that wouldn't almost certainly result in him saying the wrong thing, Thor opted for the latter.

He woke alone, roused by someone drunkenly singing Christmas hymns loudly in the street outside - and never had Stille Nacht been more ironic - the cool sheet next to him proclaiming that Loki had been up for a while.

Managing to brave the cold air, he shuffled downstairs, mouth watering at the scent warm butter and roasting meat.

"Clint never mashed the potatoes," Loki said as soon as he caught sight of him. "But I'm in charge now and I say we can have mashed potatoes whenever. Never mind the effort."

He was attacking a pan of them with a fork ferociously, to the point that Thor felt the need to take over for a shift, practically whisking them to smoothness.

Lewis was giggly thanks to the bottle on the table, though none of the other usual dinner guests had appeared. Thor would like to pretend they had families to be with, but it seemed more likely they'd gone to one of the local churches for seasonal charity.

A family, Loki had said, and despite his faint mistrust at that suggestion, Thor did finally feel a little twinge of belonging and security being here, cooking and singing and drinking with them. They took their time about it, spending hours and hours over each thing, making it perfect. Lewis kept trying to tell him that she didn't even celebrate Christmas, but then she would say things he didn't follow about candles and slipping into languages he didn't understand.

Even having to help her upstairs to bed was perfect, mumbling about the new year, a new start, new lives.

Falling into bed again, almost at the same time as he'd left it that morning having stayed up all night, was perfect. Having Loki snuggled in his arms and his smell in his nostrils was perfect.

His worries could wait.


	40. Chapter 40

Thor woke alone again, but this time with a note left on the dressing table.

"Out for a meeting, back soon. Please check Darcy is still alive. Kisses, Loki."

Thor did not like this at all, neither the fact that Loki had gone out without telling him in advance, nor that he thought he knew exactly who he had gone to meet.

Lewis was still breathing, though Thor didn't dare wake her. He could feel a hangover nipping behind his skull and was sure hers would be worse. He smoothed her hair a little and covered her more with the blanket, comfortable enough doing so since they'd put her to bed in her clothes.

There wasn't any point in worrying about Loki so instead he cleaned up everything from the night before, busying himself as usual, even dragging the bed from the stage back into the Nest. With some degree of difficulty. It was sturdier than it looked.

Eventually, Loki returned, positively flouncing in, cheeks blushed a delicious shade of pink from the cold. Thor set a pan to heat, keen to warm him up as he dragged a chair close to the range.

"Successful meeting?" Thor asked, grinding up some coffee.

Loki sighed. Thor had tried to keep any hint of accusation out of his voice, but maybe he hadn't been quite careful enough.

"Very successful, thank you," he said. "I've renegotiated the terms of purchase, had the deed signed over to me in advance, started planning the grand re-opening for the new year..."

"And what's the catch?" Thor asked. "A man like that would not just give you a theatre out of the goodness of his heart."

He handed Loki a mug, sweetened with honey as he liked it, catching the eye-roll and raising his eyebrows at it.

The look of challenge on Loki's face, his lips quirked, eyes slightly narrowed, was more attractive than it had any right to be.

"The catch, if you must know, is that I must pay five percent of my profits on in perpetuity. A sort of rent. But that isn't so bad. If you fetch the books from Clint's room, we can begin to plan out the budget. I say that we calculate our costs for food and household and divide the money in two halves. Half goes towards living costs and the other divided equally between the performers each evening. Anything left over, we keep as savings."

Thor frowned slightly.

"And you think the others will accept that?"

Loki took a gulp of coffee, perhaps just to make Thor wait.

"If I remove the rent on the rooms for use, it will be a pay rise for most of them. In real terms anyway. And besides, I'm not going to tell them in so many words. Workers seldom need to know what the directors are up to. Besides, I earn more than some of them combined. I'll be doing them a favour to share with them."

"Then wouldn't it make more sense for you to just keep your own profits instead?"

Loki shook his head.

"Happy workers are quiet workers. I want the best to work for me. The best way to do that is to treat them fairly. I'll have Darcy spread the word. That I'm taking over, changing things. Making this my cabaret. We'll work for ourselves, make profit for ourselves and not someone who doesn't know the reality of this life."

"Except the five percent charge you're paying to the old boss."

Loki sighed at him again, swinging his feet.

"Less than we used to pay."

He wasn't sure about this. It seemed too easy, too neat. There had to be something he wasn't seeing.

"Did they give you the deed?" he asked.

"It will be delivered in the new year. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

Thor shrugged, unable to summon up much of an argument without all the pieces.

"So what are your grand changes, then?" he asked. "How will your cabaret run?"

Loki grinned at him, eyes bright. Thor couldn't quite shake the feeling that he wasn't going to like something here, but it was good to see Loki so excited.

"It's mine, so I'll appear often, but seldom performing. I always thought it was ridiculous that Clint didn't introduce the acts and that people had to come right up to the door to find out who was performing. I intend to have chalk boards advertising who will be appearing each night. Names up like specials. Excitement on the ground. And then I will introduce them. My cabaret, my performers."

"But you'll still perform yourself."

Loki looked at him strangely, and then looked away.

"Would you be jealous if I did?"

Thor thought about it. It was difficult to say. He would be jealous, of course, but at the same time, he knew this was just Loki's work.

"I know it means nothing," he said. "I know that... What you do with them is not the same as what we do together. I will envy them and I will know they don't appreciate you as they should, but I won't stand in your way."

"And will you perform with me?"

He hesitated and Loki took his hand, his empty mug loosely held in his other.

"What about in private?" he asked. "Not on the stage, but in the Nest? You and me, watched by a client. You wouldn't even notice them."

He didn't trust this. He understood that there would be demand after their performance two days ago. They could make a lot of money that way.

"I would do it for you," he said. "But I'm not sure I'll like it much."

Loki laughed.

"Oh, I don't know. When I'm lying there, bound for you to enjoy, begging for your touch..."

"But it won't be real. It won't be spontaneous. I want to... love you when we both want it, not when someone else wants us to."

Loki rubbed his thumb absentmindedly over Thor's knuckles.

"I'm not used to such an idea," he admitted. "I've never not wanted sex, as such, because I always wanted the money it would get me. I always hated that phrase, making love. Sounds like manufacture. Like sex can create love somehow. If it did, I'd have given away my heart a thousand times by now. And besides, love and sex are quite different beasts."

"Have you been in love before?"

Loki snorted.

"Shouldn't think so, no. It's not really my area. And that's what makes this difficult."

Thor thought over what he'd said for a moment.

"I know that I love you, in two ways. As my brother and as yourself. And if you wished, I would be celebate and push back my more... bodily wants."

"That's not what I was saying. I was saying that I want you to perform with me sometimes. But I know you won't unless we also have a private relationship. But then how can I be sure you'll trust me in that? Why wouldn't you think I only did that so that you would become my stage partner too? It's a logical conclusion."

It was. Too logical.

"I trust that you wouldn't lie to me," he said, trying to sound confident. "Not now that all our secrets are out."

Loki smiled at him in a way that made his heart sink.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he said. "So I'll tell you what - think it over first. I might not love you as anything more than a brother, but I would of course prefer it if you didn't rush into anything or be hurt as a result of any rash decisions. So think very carefully, brother. This is a new era after all."

Thor wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but he knew he was right. A step back, a little perspective. Maybe that was just what he needed.


	41. Chapter 41

For the next few days, Loki was a whirlwind. Thor figured that since he'd had two years to plan how _his_ theatre would run, he'd put a lot of thought into it.

"Under new ownership" he scrawled outside on a large piece of slate he'd acquired from God knew where. And he had Lewis out and about telling everyone she could about the new plans, about a meeting to discuss the ideas Loki was putting forward.

It ended up being less a discussion and more like Loki telling everyone what was going to happen. Around twenty people showed up, many of them regular performers but a few that Thor didn't recognise. And they were suspicious, he could tell that much. What made Loki different from every other sleazy cabaret owner? That's what they wanted to know.

"Oh, come on," Loki said, trying to dazzle them with smiles and fluttering lashes, techniques that were decidedly less effective against this audience than his usual one. "You all know me. I'm one of you. I know what it's like on the front line."

Thor almost winced at his phrasing. He couldn't help but draw links between his own attempts at saving his comrades and Loki's firm belief that he was acting in the best interests of the many. What if he was wrong? What if this ended badly? What would they do then?

"So you're still going to perform?" one asked, a blonde woman, all sharp face and probably sharper tongue.

"Of course," Loki said. "More than I have before, actually."

"And, what, he's going to be the new Clint?"

She was pointing at Thor, the rest of them eyeing him suspisciously. Clint had been a known quantity, a trustworthy figure who would never hurt anyone or attempt to take advantage of their profession.

Whereas Thor, well, he was the pervert who fucked his own brother. Who knew what other depravities were lurking in his soul? Thor would almost have been offended were it not for the fact that he had indeed discovered a deep well of incestuous longing within himself. No, they were right to be concerned about him.

"I suppose, yes, in that he'll be handling the laundry and the food and the day to day running of things, yes."

"And the money?"

Loki fixed her with a bright smile.

"I'll handle the money," he said. "After expenses for food and costs, I will divide it equally among us. So really, you're all about to get a share of my profits."

There were giggles. Blatent laughter at this suggestion.

"You're not as special as you think you are, you know."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"You don't know how much I make, darling," he said. "Give it a try and if you're not happy, you're welcome to leave. But I pride myself on always satisfying. Trust me."

"I'd more likely trust the local mongrels."

She smiled as she said it though and Thor couldn't help but feel like this was some sort of dance. She was throwing in new steps, testing Loki, seeing how he would react to unfamiliar footwork.

His announcement that the beds for "use", as he euphemistically put it, would no longer be charged for on top of putting the money into a communal pot was received with some approval. One or two even wanted to book them for use that night. Thor thought it seemed a good idea, to start bringing money in right away, but Loki seemed strangely reluctant.

A little cajoling and he relented. Thor suddenly wondered if he had done that deliberately, let them have a victory over him. Keep them sweet by pretending that he wasn't ruling with an iron fist.

He asked about it later as Loki was carefully drawing up a ledger. Income and names, totals, a division column. Every night, the total amount raised in the cabaret from the door and the bar and rooms would cross Loki's palm.

"I'm offended that you would even insinuate such a thing," he said. "That I would manufacture a situation in which I could only win. How shocking."

"It would be clever and judicious and therefore exactly the kind of thing you might do."

Loki grinned wickedly as he finished one page, blowing on the ink to make it dry before he turned it to begin marking the next one.

"You know me too well, Thor. I must hope you never start working against me."

"Even if I did, I'm sure you have plenty more tricks up your sleeve."

A chuckle and a light hum.

"You are such a flirt."

Thor felt his face fall. He hadn't meant to make things strange. He'd just been speaking from the heart.

"Sorry," he said. "I wasn't... I didn't mean anything by it."

"Stop worrying. You know I have no problem with telling you when I'm uncomfortable."

"Yes, but I don't know if you would tell me if you thought not telling me would be better for some reason."

Loki huffed and Thor knew he'd made a mistake.

"You were being sincere and so was I and there's an end to it," Loki said.

They sat in silence until a woman knocked on the door, bringing her takings for Loki to mark down, handing her back the majority of it. His first profit.

Thor tried to be happy for him and reject the squirming unease in his stomach.


	42. Chapter 42

Thor had never heard of first night nerves, but if he had, he might have been able to identify the feeling fluttering in his chest as he took door payments and tried to ignore the comments thrown his way about his performance at Christmas.

"Will you be performing tonight?"

"No."

"How about tomorrow?"

"I doubt it."

"Trouble in paradise? Not able to satisfy the little slut?"

"I satisfy my brother perfectly well, if that's what you're trying to ask."

Which, of course, was a lie. He was taking a step back as Loki had suggested, trying to take stock of the situation. Even though his body was still very much in favour of being... inappropriate with Loki at any and all opportunities, he knew he had to be careful. He could not allow his body to rule his mind.

They'd rushed enough. Already their first experience together was tainted, marked by the physical conditions that were far from ideal and the fight that had followed so closely on its heels. The second time had made some amends, but that just meant the third time could either improve or shatter that picture and the same for every other time and...

So much pressure. He might burst with it.

And Loki was right. He didn't trust this, yet. He didn't know if he could believe Loki really wanted him for the same reasons. Or really wanted him at all.

Even if he could believe Loki found him attractive, wanted him physically, that might be enough, but he never gave any indication of what might arouse him for real. Thor assumed something must. He seemed to desire sex enough. He had preferences. There must be something.

Maybe he could ask after the show.

Speaking of which, he could hear Loki proudly introducing the newly improved theatre, announcing the acts who would perform, giving the names of who else was in the building and willing to receive visitors, directing them back to Thor for information on future bookings.

Which of course meant a few trying to book both of them. Thor parried their attempts, citing their other business duties as explanation for why they couldn't just yet, promising that the situation would improve within a few months. Did he mean that promise? Would he ever be able to become comfortable with this, even if he had to pretend?

It would bring in more money. It would help them save faster. Maybe it would be worth it if he could take Loki away from all this.

After the show ended, once he'd got rid of the last of the patrons, he followed the noise to the line of performers and workers, some negotiating for room and board, others just taking their share and leaving. It had been a busy night. They must have made a fair amount. Loki would be pleased.

Of course, he felt like he had no sooner seen the last one take their money than Loki was tossing him his coat and telling Lewis to watch the place while they went out to buy dinner.

"This late, really?"

Loki breathed in the chill air, sighing happily.

"The sooner the better," he said. "This cash will only depreciate. We'll get the best deals if we spend it tonight."

He meant it too. Hard bargains and absolutely no question of being ripped off. He bought perishables to devour over the next few nights and stock that would last, casually using Thor as a sort of prop to quietly intimidate. Not that he was armed as he suspected many of these late-night sellers were.

He wondered a little how Loki knew where to find them, given he had been pretending to be imprisoned for so long. Maybe he had asked around. Maybe they'd visited the cabaret before. Maybe he was just getting lucky.

"Tomorrow, we'll go to the pawn shop and buy gold," Loki said firmly as they headed home. "It's more stable than cash."

Thor made a sort of grunt, not sure if he was sad or just tired.

Loki sighed.

"We had a successful opening night, Thor. Be glad for me. Be glad for us. This is the first step."

He forced a smile, but that didn't seem to placate Loki, who continued to frown all the way home.

"Come on, what's upset you?" he asked, putting a jar of pickled onion to the back of the shelf and rinsing off some turnip for the morning.

"Nothing," Thor said. "Just contemplating, that's all."

"Well, I wish you wouldn't. You're making me nervous. Like you think I'm going to fail."

"No, quite the contrary. I was just... Look, it's ridiculous, alright? Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Loki still didn't seem to trust him, mouth tight even as they went up to bed and Thor wrapped an arm around him in attempted reconciliation.

"I'm too excited to sleep," Loki whispered into the darkness.

Thor mumbled something, pretending to be less awake than he was. If they stayed up, they'd only talk and that might lead to the wrong thing being said.

A few minutes of wiggling and turning and Loki finally lay still. Thor thought he was finally comfortable, finally ready to drift off.

No such luck.

He became aware that Loki was breathing heavily, panting almost. And then he became aware of the blanket moving.

Despite himself, Thor opened his eyes and tried to see in the dim glow of streetlamps outside, managing to make out just the curve of Loki's cheekbones, the gentle dip in the top of his parted lips, the tips of his eyelashes against his cheeks.

"Hah..." Loki breathed. "Mmm..."

A sense of wonder overtaking his fears, Thor watched as Loki worked himself to completion, his chest heaving afterwards. He startled when Loki opened his eyes like he'd known he was being watched, smiling gently and wiping his hand on the outside of the blanket.

"What were you thinking about?" Thor asked.

Loki sighed contentedly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up that Thor has some upsetting dreams here. Hopefully nothing particularly bad, but a wee warning nonetheless.

Yes, Thor thought. He did want to know what Loki thought of when he pleasured himself. It would perhaps give him a sense of what to do to please him.

Then again, he thought of some of his own fantasies over the years, dreams of walking into a new place where no one knew him and finding an anonymous partner for one passionate night together. Nothing he would ever really do. He wasn't sure his nerve would hold to approach anyone like that and the reality would probably be awful. Maybe likewise, Loki's imaginings were just that, things he only found arousing in theory.

The room smelled of Loki's climax, the same tang that clung to the Nest, and perhaps that explained Thor's dreams that night.

_He was in the Nest, surveying the bed when a hand was placed on the back of his neck. Gentle. Pleasant._

_"Loki?"_

_No answer. But who else would it be, here in his brother's domain?_

_"Loki, is that you?"_

_The grip turned harsh when he tried to turn his head._

_"No," a voice growled behind him._

_He tried to see who it was, but found himself paralysed, forced to bend over and place both hands on the plush red velvet of the bed._

_At that point, he realised he was naked. He began to struggle a little, trying to fight his unseen assailant._

_Lewis appeared in front of him, though he wasn't sure how. She couldn't have come through a door there. There wasn't a door there._

_"It's alright," she said, voice strange and muffled. "It will end soon."_

_She was dressed all in black, he realised, from neck to floor and her hair longer than ever, cascading down her body in huge waves._

_"Who is it?" he asked. "Who has me?"_

_"Ssh..."_

_The hands holding him began to move, stroking down his sides, to his waist and hips and legs, even slipping down between his thighs. He began fighting properly, unable to breathe or move much, trying to cry out for help._

_He fell forward, the red of the velvet rubbing off on his hands. Blood? Was that blood?_

_His feet slipped on the snow suddenly beneath them, leaving him sprawled in the pool of red before him, struggling to turn, to see, letting out a strangled cry._

_Fandral stared at him with those horrible glazed eyes, his wounds oozing sluggishly, skin grey and dead but still moving._

_Thor scrambled back, panicking when his back hit the wall of the Nest. He had no weapon even. No way to defend himself._

_His old friend moved slowly but with a dogged determination, reaching to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing the gaping holes in his torso where Thor had saved his remaining fingers, hands going down to his trousers._

_No, no, no... Thor finally found enough strength to stand and shoved past him, running towards the door, hammering against it._

_"Loki!" he yelled. "Loki, help me!"_

_He couldn't open the door. It was locked, he couldn't open the door._

_The key must be here somewhere._

_His fingers raked through the jewels strewn over the tables, watching as they turned to bullets in his grasp, shards of shrapnel cutting into his flesh and Fandral's steps growing ever closer and..._

"Thor!"

He gasped for breath, clinging desperately to the arm that was shaking his shoulder.

"Just a nightmare," Loki said gently. "You're alright. I'm here."

He could only manage wordless sobs. He'd never had a dream like that before. Where had Loki been? Or had he been Loki in his nightmare, trying to escape the clutches of unwanted men? He couldn't tell. Didn't know what it meant.

He let Loki cradle him to his chest, hushing him soothingly, though he felt the urge to touch him, to make sure this was real and not somehow a continuation of his dream. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath Thor's ear, reassuringly solid ribs under his head.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Thor almost shuddered. He felt very small in Loki's arms, but he wanted that, wanted to be small enough for Loki to envelop him completely.

"Bad things," he said helplessly.

Loki hummed like he understood exactly what he meant.

"You've never been that bad," he murmured.

"I've woken you before?"

"Just once or twice. When you've been moaning in fear. Sometimes you say things too."

"What do I say?"

Loki shuffled a little, trying to get comfortable.

"Most of the time, you just keep saying you're sorry."

Thor blinked at that, trying to press a little closer into Loki's chest.

"I am sorry," he said.

"I know. That's why I don't usually wake you, in case it's something you need to say, even if only in your dreams. But you were crying out for help tonight, so..."

"You helped me."

Loki kissed the top of his head. Thor looked up to find him looking down, his face at a strange angle.

"Thank you."

A little half shrug, trying to pretend it was nothing, but still a trace of concern in his eyes. Thor snuggled back into his chest despite its lack of softness, just glad to have the sound of his heart beating in his ear.

He wanted to tell Loki he loved him, but maybe this wasn't the time.

And he probably already knew.


	44. Chapter 44

They were still lying like that, Thor's head on Loki's chest, when Lewis knocked perfunctorily on the door before opening it.

"There's a woman downstairs," she said. "Something about a deed."

Loki sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"Tell her I'll be down momentarily."

He let out a little sound of complaint when Thor moved, ready to let him get up.

"Cold," he muttered when Thor threw him a curious look. "You were keeping that side of my chest all cosy with your face. Look, now my nipple has gone all pointy."

So it had. Thor felt something stir within him at the sight of the hard little nub barely concealed beneath the shirt Loki had slept in. It was a strange desire, to touch and soothe it, to tease it even. He didn't know. But something.

Of course during their "performance," he had tweaked one, but he hadn't realised that such an act could excite him on its own.

He reached out tentatively and laid his hand over it, feeling its peak beneath his palm, Loki shivering from something that didn't seem like just the cold.

"Later," he said, laying his hand over Thor's. "For now, we should go see our visitor."

She was tall and slender, looking like she'd effortlessly suit the kind of dresses Lewis wore, but dressed very conservatively. She did wear the fashionable short haircut though. She glanced up as they entered, warming her hands by the range as Lewis chattered and made coffee. She liked to be helpful, especially if there was potentially gossip to be had.

"Are you the Magpie?"

"Professionally, yes. But Odinson or just Loki will be fine. And don't tell me... Nebula?"

She nodded, looking them up and down. She didn't seem impressed, but Thor got the impression that she was never very impressed by anything.

"My father sent me," she said. "With his regards and the documents you wanted."

She fished an envelope out of an inner pocket, tossing it onto the table. Loki picked it up like he was weighing it, a look of triumph playing around his eyes.

"My thanks. Do help yourself to refreshments. We often have dinner around this time if you care to join us."

"Depends what you're offering."

They might both be smiling, but they were the smiles of sharks. Thor felt like he was caught in some kind of card game that he didn't understand. Or where the rules kept changing.

"I'm sorry," Loki said suddenly. "How remiss of me. This is my beloved brother, Thor. I believe you saw some of his handiwork on Christmas morning."

"The bruise had mostly faded by then. It wasn't serious."

"I'm glad to hear it."

She snorted. "No, you're not."

Loki didn't say anything to that, just accepted his coffee from Lewis and sipped it gently. Watching. Waiting for her to say something else.

How could there be such animosity between them if it seemed they had never met?

"How is your sister?" Loki asked eventually.

"As bleeding-hearted as ever. It's funny really. She doesn't know if she's pleased or furious that you've pulled this off. On the one hand, she's glad you're almost out of our father's hands, but on the other she always thought you'd move on from this line of work."

"Why? I'm good at it."

A shrug. She swirled her cup, looking critically into the dregs in the base of it.

"Anyway," she said. "I believe I'm wanted at home today."

"Planning the wedding?"

A sharp glare. That was a sore point for some reason.

"No point in planning something that's not going to happen," she said, draining her cup and taking her leave.

"What in the world was all that about?" Thor asked as Loki began to get started on dinner.

"That was Thanos's eldest, Nebula. Notice the cynicism and general misanthropy. I know of her, though she was away at finishing school when I was living in their house. I knew the younger sister by sight and a few words exchanged here or there. Nice girl, that one. God knows how. But Nebula... Well, I can quite understand why she hates everything. I hear her father is marrying her off to Ronan after all."

Thor felt his eyes widen. Poor girl. No one should have to deal with that.

"And does she... Does she know that he and you...?"

"Oh, of course. It's a tactical marriage. Ronan wants to inherit the empire, Nebula will, so he will marry Nebula. Even if he's not remotely interested. She knows. Men like that don't see the point in even trying to be careful with feelings."

"And do you think he'll ever hurt her like he hurt you?"

"Maybe. But I think he'd try once and then wake up missing a few choice parts of his anatomy."

He seemed so flippant and yet all it did was remind Thor once again that these were dangerous people. Violent and potentially murderous. Not the kind of people to be treated with the kind of playful disdain that Loki did.

"Besides," Loki said. "She has no intention of going through with it in the first place from what I've heard."

Thor wished that gave him comfort, reaching for the envelope and looking at the deed inside. A copy of the one held at the bank, but important all the same.

He frowned as he read it, Loki's name there in neat script.

"It says the mortgage is held by someone in America," he said uncertainly.

"Mm. Well, everything is," Loki said, tossing vegetables into hot water. "It's more stable that way. The dollar doesn't suffer nearly such severe fluctuations."

Hmm. Maybe. Still, everything since they'd got out of bed had made him uneasy.

He tried to quiet the little voice that said maybe they should just stay up there in bed forever.


	45. Chapter 45

Loki insisted that after feeding everyone they ought to nap before the evening show. Thor was a little suspicious of this, but put it down to general worry and let Loki arrange him as he wanted. Which seemed to meant trying to get the maximum amount of contact for a minimum of weight carrying.

Thor found himself at eye level with Loki's chest, staring at where he knew his nipples were hidden. And that made his thoughts start to roam, fantasies of making Loki shiver and moan. But no. It was time to sleep now.

"You're tense," Loki murmured, stroking down his back.

"No. M'alright."

A chuckle right beneath his ear.

"And you're a bad liar. But that's not a problem. In fact, I like it."

Thor sighed, not quite following what Loki was thinking of, hearing the hiss that he released with some interest.

"Your breath is so warm. It makes my skin tingle."

"In a bad way?"

"No. In a nice way. I think. I don't know, it sort of tickles."

Out of curiosity, Thor blew softly, deliberately making it as hot as possible, grinning when Loki squealed and wriggled beside him, and more when he rolled himself on top.

"You can't do things like that unless you're ready for payback," Loki said as he gazed down at him, thumb rubbing over his nipple straight through his shirt.

Thor was surprised at how good that felt, having Loki's fingers on what he hadn't thought was a particularly sensitive place. It had him gasping, struggling to try to reach his brother and fight back in this strange battle they were waging.

Before too long, he'd rolled them back and had Loki mostly pinned, though his free arm was still flailing, laughing and squirming as Thor tried to get the upper hand. He took hold of both Loki's wrists, holding them in place above his head, leaving Loki quirking a brow at him, chest heaving invitingly.

He couldn't let go, but...

Thor didn't let himself overthink it, just lent down and took Loki's right nipple between his lips, straight through the fabric.

The effect was instantaneous. Loki moaned, arching upwards, like he was trying to get more attention, more sensation. Thor knew that he was a little hard himself, but feeling the beginnings of Loki's answering arousal thrilled him. Maybe no one else did this to him. Maybe no one else knew how this made him pant and react.

He moved to give the other nipple the same treatment, daring to let go of Loki's wrist as he did so and instantly getting fingers tangled in his hair.

The power he felt doing this... But not a selfish power, but a warm glowing power, the ability to demonstrate something of his love through action.

Of course, part of him thought that he shouldn't do that through physicality, let alone sexually, but he paid it no mind. They had crossed that line, had already transgressed. A little more would surely not make anything worse.

Besides, the way Loki was keening beneath him... He couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to. It was too perfect, being here together, alone, all tangled up.

A hand between them, Loki's practised fingers undoing their trousers and reaching in to draw out Thor's cock. He couldn't keep up his ministrations, had to gasp against Loki's chest at the feeling of their lengths coming together in one grasp.

"Kiss me," Loki commanded and Thor could do nothing but obey, trying desperately to find enough coordination through the mind-numbing sensations Loki was drawing from him.

He knew he wasn't managing very well, mouthing against more skin than lips, gasping and sighing and getting gasps and sighs in return. It was all too easy to get lost in it, only just managing to open his eyes when Loki made a more urgent cry. He tried to pay attention to the rhythm of touch, the way Loki was stroking them both closer and closer to the edge. Was this how he liked to be touched? If he learned to replicate this, would he be able to please him?

If only he could think enough to try to take mental notes.

He could think enough to support himself on one arm and set about rubbing Loki's apparently highly sensitive nipples, earning himself a helpless moan as he pressed his fingertips against the damp fabric.

How much better would it be without clothes, he found himself wondering.

He couldn't last much longer, the sight and sounds of Loki coming apart beneath him too much to bear, grunting as he spilled over Loki's hand. But that did mean he had better control over his body, sitting up so he could tease both of Loki's nipples until he threw his head back, panting and moaning.

A beat of quiet when they just looked at one another breathlessly and then Loki laughed.

"So much for sleeping. And you'll have to change your trousers before tonight."

Thor lay down next to him, still basking in the pleasant warmth rolling through his veins. He'd be aware of the cold winter air soon enough, probably.

"Maybe I won't," he said, mostly jokingly. "Maybe I'll let them all see and let them guess what we've been up to."

Loki looked at him in surprise and then looked away.

"I did that because I wanted to, you know," he said.

Thor sighed and nuzzled against his hair, trying to end this discussion before it could get going again.

"I know," he said. "I was just teasing. Though I am getting more used to the idea."

"What idea?"

"You and me together. Not just here, but performing."

"And?"

And... Well, what and? Where was he going with this? Was he ready? No, not really. But...

"They've seen us together once. They're not going to stop asking for more any time soon. I need to get used to that."

"Do you think you could do it?"

Thor took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I'm willing to give it a try. In the Nest. At least to start with."

Loki rolled over and kissed him. Soft and tender. Innocent almost, for all that they were covered in their own spend.

"Thank you," Loki said. "I promise, you won't regret it. After all, I'll practically be begging for it. I haven't been fucked since last year..."

Giggling made it all feel better somehow. Or at least less awful.


	46. Chapter 46

He had to decide which client to allow into the Nest very carefully. A good experience on this first session was vital if he was going to grow accustomed to allowing paying customers into his private life with Loki. Or at least a fabricated version of it.

He was torn about timescale as well. Was he willing to let his third time with Loki be observed? It wouldn't be real. But then again, did he want that to be the reason for trying for a third time before going into the Nest? Not exactly. He wanted their relationship to be organic and spontaneous, but maybe that wasn't practical. Maybe they needed to discuss this, however awkward that discussion might be.

"Who should it be?" he asked Loki out of the blue a few days later. He'd had a few requests on the door, but none of them seemed right.

"How do you want it to be?"

Thor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not ready to be told how to act," he said. "I don't even want to be aware of someone else being there, at least as far as that is possible. I want... I want someone who'll be quiet and let us be natural."

Loki was ironing, swapping one flat for the hotter one from the stove, sprinkling a little water on it to test the heat.

"I understand," he said through a small cloud of steam. "It's a big adjustment. Leave it with me. We will need an excuse for why they are suddenly allowed in that continues our cover story but I'll think of something."

He was so calm about it. Thor found himself frowning as he folded the crisp pillow cases ready to be taken upstairs and put onto the beds.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked, managing to sound long-suffering and playful at the same time.

Well, there wasn't going to be a better moment to bring it up, was there?

"I can't decide... I don't know whether I want to wait or..."

"Or to fuck me between now and then?" Loki finished, laughing at him a little. "Oh, Thor. Come on, you have to get used to talking about it. You can't be shy in this line of work. And besides, I'd like it if you felt more comfortable voicing what you want."

The blush might not be on his face just yet, but it was definitely lurking just beneath the surface. It even distracted him from the little voice that said Loki was one to talk about hiding desires.

"I'll try," was all he could manage for now.

Loki smiled at him, strangely gently. Like he really appreciated the attempt.

"Help me fold the sheets."

He seemed to be aware of Thor's need for practicality to take his mind off his worries, even if he kept talking as they worked.

"Maybe it would help if you spoke to me first. Just to me. Tell me what you want to do with me. Or what you find arousing or enticing. Anything at all."

Thor couldn't meet his gaze as they shook out the still-warm linens.

"You'll laugh at me."

Loki snorted.

"Thor, believe me, I've heard it all. People desire very strange things sometimes. Nothing you could possibly say would seem ridiculous to me. Just be candid. It's only me after all."

He ought to say something having been prompted, Thor thought. Maybe Loki was right, maybe this would help.

"I like your hands," he mumbled. "You're very dexterous. Graceful with them. I want to... I don't know. Protect them. Wrap them up in soft gloves and make sure they never get toughened or calloused or cracked by the cold. Kiss them, right on the fingertips, where you're all sensitive."

They walked towards each other, folding the sheet between then, knuckles brushing as Loki leant in for a kiss.

"Was that a reward for talking or because you liked what I said?" Thor asked.

"Why can't it be both?"

Thor shrugged.

Why not indeed?


	47. Chapter 47

Loki made the decision for him. After a midweek show, after the money was counted and redistributed, and after everyone else had left or gone to bed, he asked for the schedule book, carefully inking in a new session for the next day.

_Loki + Thor, 3pm, Nest_

"Who is it?" Thor asked. "Who's coming?"

"I spoke to a regular between performances. He said he missed me very much, begged to be allowed back into my favour. I asked if he'd be interested in a little private meeting of the three of us and, well, long story short, he's bringing the champagne."

"Yes, but who is it? What's he like?"

Loki fetched their coats and hurried Thor out the door, keen to have food secured as soon as possible.

"Remember the first time you sat outside the Nest?"

How could he not? The first time he had recognised what kind of feelings he held for his brother, the horror he had felt and yet the burning desire that had taken hold of him and never subsided no matter how hard he tried to quell the flames.

"Of course," he said, hoping none of that rush of emotion came through in his voice.

"Well, it is that man. He was one of my firsts, back when I began. It works out well, to have him as our debut client. A sign of thanks and respect for a long-standing customer. And, of course, he fits with all your requirements. A shrinking violet, as they say. With an appetite for men thirty years his junior. Quiet, unassuming, almost sweet in his own way. You'll be alright with him."

"And the champagne?"

Loki giggled.

"Well, if someone wants to bring me champagne, I'm hardly about to say no, am I?"

A fair point. Thor wasn't sure if he'd ever had champagne. When they were young, a small glass of wine was sometimes allowed with dinner, but nothing flaboyant or bubbly like that. He would probably be excited to try it, once his stomach settled down.

As usual, he let Loki do the talking, the purchasing of supplies, fulfilling the role of heavy, vague threat in case anyone started anything, though quite what he'd do in such an event, Thor wasn't sure.

He was distracted for a start. A private meeting... A euphemistic term, of course, but would such a gathering involve entertaining? How much? Would he be expected to make conversation? How did Loki want him to behave?

He went to bed with all those questions swirling in his mind. Loki on the other hand seemed far more at ease. Maybe he was glad to be making money from his own skin. Thor could understand why seeming to take advantage of his performers would rub him the wrong way.

And he supposed that was one way to think about it. They were paying their way. Proving they weren't just another set of brothel owners. Proving that they didn't think they were better than the others.

Of course, Clint had never sold himself and no-one held it against him. That wasn't a helpful thought though.

Perhaps it would feel less strange in the morning. When the usual morning things of feeding the rotating group of residents and changing the bedsheets was underway.

It didn't. For a start, Loki left him sleeping, obviously concerned that he'd had a disturbed night. He felt vaguely disoriented as he went downstairs, grateful all the same for a bowl of hot, meaty something with huge chunks of vegetable in it. Mother would be proud of their culinary skills, maybe.

Of course, thinking of her was a mistake too. She was probably in heaven weeping for them now.

Lewis surfaced even later than him, shuffling downstairs in her blanket having mercifully pulled on some clothes.

"You seem strange," she said, taking a seat next to Thor.

"Just distracted."

"We're taking a client today," Loki called from over by the sink.

He obviously wanted it to be common knowledge. Make sure everyone knew. It certainly provoked a fair reaction, excited gasps and chatter. Thor found himself blushing and looking down.

"Yeah," he said. "But I've never done anything like this before. I'm not sure what to... How to behave."

"Just be yourself," one guest suggested, getting a snort from Lewis.

"No," she said. "Definitely don't be yourself. Simplify. Strip back a few layers. Think about what the client wants. He wants to see you with Loki, right? So you have to act the way he expects you to. Possessive, maybe jealous, shameless. Confident above everything. They can smell inexperience. And while that works for me, I don't think that will work for you."

Thor's head was swimming.

"What do you mean, inexperience works for you?"

She raised her eyebrows, her eyes going wide beneath the smudges of last night's make-up. Looking like someone completely different, voice higher, tremulous.

"I don't normally... Oh... _Oh!_ Didn't know it could feel so good..." She went back to her usual self with a giggle. "When I first started, I must have told at least twelve men they were my first. Used to spin a story about only using my mouth but then being overwelmed with desire for them. Most didn't have a clue. I only stopped with that one when too many of them knew me. So now I pretend that they're the first one to ever really do it right."

So much of this seemed to be acting. What if he wasn't convincing? Jealous, he could do. Probably even possessive... He did feel protective towards Loki, for all that he was failing miserably at actually protecting him from anything. Surely it was not much to twist that.

"You'll be fine," Lewis said, patting him on the back. "You two make a very nice tableau."

Loki took his empty bowl, kissing him softly on the cheek.

"Just react to what I do," he said. "You'll do well, I know it. You know that under all the pretending, there's something real just for you."

Well, if he hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now as the others cooed over them.

He cleaned the stage and the kitchen floor like they had personally offended him, scrubbing down the table, but leaving the laundry until after the session. It made sense to do it all at once after all. And depending on outcome, he might want to clean away any evidence very quickly.

He was putting away all the crockery from dinner when he heard the footsteps behind him, glancing back to find Loki in a freshly starched shirt and dark trousers, his hair brushed to shining smoothness, smooth skin laced with a delicate blush. Stunning. Utterly beautiful.

"Are you ready?"

Thor let his eyes wander down Loki's body and tried to get into the right mindset. _Mine... My Loki, my brother, mine..._

"I think so," he said, putting the last glass into the cupboard and coming to take Loki's hand, ready to walk to the Nest together.


	48. Chapter 48

"Harold, darling," Loki purred, letting go of Thor's hand to embrace their client, laying a swift kiss on his lips.

Thor felt a little pang of jealousy at that. He had been the only one to kiss Loki since the new year began. Maybe pretending to be overly possessive would be easier than he thought.

Loki had prepared the Nest while Thor was working, three tall glasses waiting for them in the soft glow of the lamp light. He'd brought a chair from the kitchen, disguised with a soft cushion and facing the bed. Perfect for a viewer. A voyeur.

"Make yourself comfortable," Loki said, popping the cork from Harold's bottle with practised ease.

Thor took a seat on the floor, leaning back against the bed, trying to look like he owned this place. It turned out to be the right choice, if having Loki give him two glasses to hold while he crawled into his lap, clearly showing off his behind as he did so, was any indication.

"So..." he said, taking his drink from Thor and sipping it daintily. "What would you like to see us do together?"

Harold seemed nervous under their gaze, for all that he was above them, supposedly in a position of power. The bubbles of the champagne burst across Thor's tongue, sharp and sparkling.

"I'd... I'd like to see you make love together."

Loki laughed that strange, wicked laugh, the one that had first piqued Thor's interest, swaying back so his lips were close to Thor's ear.

"He wants to see us fuck, brother," he said in a very audible whisper. "Shall we let him?"

"Depends," Thor said, trying to follow Loki's lead. "Do you want to be fucked?"

"Don't I always?"

"That's not what I meant. Do you want to be watched while you scream and moan? Is that what you want? You want to be seen as you cry out for more?"

"Mmm, _yes_... Oh, I'm getting so hot suddenly..."

"Then let me help you."

He was very aware of Harold's eyes on them as he drained his glass and set it aside, beginning to undo the buttons of Loki's shirt, reaching inside to touch his flesh, groping at him with an easy familiarity that he only barely felt.

And, of course, having Loki squirming in his lap...

"Ooh, Harold, there's something so hard digging into my back..."

"You like hard things, don't you?"

"Mmm... I like them inside, stretching me, rubbing me just ri-ah!"

Thor had very deliberately grabbed his crotch, feeling for his arousal. He would not be ignored, that's what his role was. Loki was trying to rile him up and it was working. But two could play that game... He undid the fastening and let Loki's cock spring free. He stroked it a little, leaning close to growl against Loki's hair.

"Get on the bed, little brother."

A delicious full-body shiver that Thor sensed was probably not feigned, and Loki was on his feet, shrugging off the rest of his clothes and flopping back on the bed, cheeks decidedly pink, hair fanned out on the pillow. The very image of decadence.

"Harold, I must ask you a favour," he said, arching his back upwards, showing off. "My brother has never had much patience for preparation. Will you show him? Show how well you do it."

Smart, Thor had to admit, both including the client and covering Thor's lack of experience. But even still, the sight of Loki moaning out as another man's slicked fingers breached him made Thor's eyes narrow. Just a performance, he reminded himself. Just a game. None of this was real.

"Ooh, there... Oh, you're so good at that. Mmm..."

Loki would cry out louder for him. He'd enjoy his touch more. He was determined.

And in the meantime...

"Does it feel good?" he tried. "Are you enjoying his fingers?"

"Uh-huh... Oh, it feels good. Nice and thick and deep."

"And is he stretching you enough?"

"I think I need more..."

"You always want more."

He moved to be alongside Harold where he was working Loki open on two digits, casually stripping before pressing one of his own fingers in alongside. Loki moaned happily, garbling something about full, so good.

"Do you think he's ready, Harold?"

Swallowing hard, Harold nodded, pulling his fingers out. Loki made a sad little sound and Thor found himself laughing.

"Patience. You'll get what you want. You always do. But first, our guest should decide how we do this."

Flustered, Harold gripped the arms of the chair as he sat down, trousers visibly straining, eyes roaming across Loki's body.

"Like this," he said. "Give it to him how he likes it."

Thor slicked up his cock and pulled Loki down the bed by his ankles, watching his face, watching for the little nod before he began. He threw one of Loki's legs up onto his shoulder instinctively, making his body open and visible as he pushed into that wondrous heat.

How strange, to be doing this expressly for the benefit of a watcher. Still, Thor found himself surprisingly comfortable, finding a kind of solidarity in working with Loki, working together.

He was moaning out, crying out at Thor's first, slow thrusts, gentle almost as he tried to find a good angle. And he looked beautiful, Thor had to admit, all length and angles, skin contrasting with the red velvet, his eyes seeming so very green.

"More... Oh, harder, fuck me harder..."

And obeying what Loki wanted was so easy. Thor found himself making a story in his own mind, a tale of how he appeared to be the more dominant or powerful partner, but in reality, those who watched would know that Loki was always in control.

"Ah! Ah, there... Ooh, right there!"

He grinned down at his brother, the thrusts making his body shake, getting a smile in return. How had he been scared of this? They were playing the world for fools, the whole planet, the pair of them tricking all the rest into thinking they were concerned with them.

Somewhere to his left, he heard a grunt, glancing across to see Harold working his cock. How strangely pedestrian that seemed.

Loki arched beneath him, and suddenly a wicked idea entered his head, leaning forward to reach for the champagne where Loki had left it on the dressing table. Loki's leg slipped from his shoulder, watching him curiously as he held the bottle high and tipped, sending frothing liquid cascading down onto him, squealing at the chill and then moaning at the pass of Thor's tongue as he licked the traces from his skin.

"Fuck," he breathed, an unmistakably real reaction. "Oh, fuck, don't stop."

Thor grazed his skin with his teeth, not enough to mark, but enough that he'd feel it. A little claim. A little something between them. A mouthful of sparkling liquid shared in a kiss that had no finesse to it at all.

He wrapped his hand around Loki's cock when Harold's breathing grew faster, turning into gasps and pants.

"Please," Loki said. "Please, please, I need it... Oh, fuck, make me come!"

"Should I?" Thor asked the room generally.

"Oh, God, Thor..."

That seemed like a yes. His technique still left much to be desired he felt, but he covered it by thrusting hard, reducing Loki to high cries and finally finishing him with something of a flourish.

He spilled inside, unwilling to give up such a sensation as Loki's inner muscles tightening around him, shoving deep. Harold must have come somewhere amongst all that, for he was panting and red-faced as Thor pulled out. He could feel his lips tingling for more kisses.

But first, the matter of payment, sitting on the damp velvet while Loki dealt with it and bid Harold a cheerful, breathless goodbye, closing the door and leaning against it.

"Tut-tut. What a waste of champagne," he admonished playfully, practically falling into Thor's arms, sated and sticky and perfect.


	49. Chapter 49

"Well, that went well," Loki observed after they had spent several moments entwined and cooling down. "I am in severe need of a bath now though."

He was looking at Thor's face, clearly looking for his reaction, wanting to see how he would respond once the immediate afterglow had subsided.

And how was he reacting? Surprisingly well. He felt like he could do this, could really do it without so many qualms. Of course, that had been a gentle baptism rather than a harsh dunking as it were, but maybe he could get used to more, to having someone else in the room and reacting to them.

To an extent, of course. There would be limits. There had to be limits.

And yet he'd pushed his limits over and over and over again... Where would he draw the line? He wasn't sure.

"Come on," he said, hauling Loki to his feet. "Wrap up and I'll get some water on to heat. Much as I liked covering you in horrifyingly expensive drink, I don't think you want to smell of it all day."

Loki folded the velvet around himself, goosebumps on his skin.

"Are you not going to say anything about it?"

Thor shrugged.

"I don't really have much to say. Not yet anyway."

"Not yet?"

Thor pulled his clothes back on loosely, at least making an attempt at decency while he went to fetch the water.

"I enjoyed myself very much. I would not be opposed to doing that again. But step by step. I cannot run before I walk."

Lewis appeared as they waited for their fifth kettle of water to heat, smiling at the sight of them.

"Went well, did it?"

Loki placed the bundle of notes on the table.

"You could say that, yes."

"I meant the sex. You look well worked."

"Mmm. Well, yes, you could say that too. Though I really don't think something so enjoyable can possibly count as work."

Thor knew he was blushing as he filled the bath, bringing out the nice soap and gesturing for Loki to go first. He wasn't comfortable with Lewis being there, but he wasn't sure how to ask her to leave. Loki didn't seem to care, tossing the velvet aside and sighing happily as he slipped into the water.

Thor was suddenly a thousand miles away. Back in the old cottage, the tin bath in the kitchen. Back when they thought of nothing bad, nothing troublesome. They were different people then, it seemed. He felt as though that child he had been had died somewhere along the way. On the front line, in Russia, under a Berlin bridge... And he had become someone else.

"I never wrote to Sif," he said suddenly.

Loki looked over from scrubbing chest clean.

"Sif? Why would you write?"

"I told her I would write when I had found you. Or that I would take you home... Back there. Must be almost a year ago now that I saw her. She must... She must think I'm dead."

Loki looked away.

"She must think we're both dead. Why, do you think you will? Write to her?"

Thor thought it over for a moment.

"No. No, I don't think so. What if she visited? Or Heimdall? I couldn't bear that I don't think."

Loki giggled.

"Oh, I can see it now. Poor Siffy, shocked to silence. Heimdall grinding his teeth louder than even I can moan. No, I think you're right. We should be martyrs for them. Chewed up by the monstrous city like so many others."

It seemed awful to lie, even by omission, letting her grieve for them. But surely it was for the best. She would grieve for them in a different way indeed if she knew what they did now.

Lewis was definitely sneaking little glances as he bathed, but Thor figured he ought to get used to it. He would be seen nude by many. One more did not make much of a difference. Especially since she was a friend. A... A colleague.

That night, the money shared out was visibly more than usual. Loki's... _Their_ profit was large. Large enough to finance a new life, given time? Perhaps.

The blonde woman with all the doubts took her share with a raised eyebrow.

"Still doubting, Amora?" Loki asked playfully.

"I'll withhold judgement. For now."

Thor fell asleep with Loki in his arms and new bookings marked down for the week ahead.


	50. Chapter 50

Three days passed without much interest. The show went on, the bookings came in, but Loki was judicial with them. Only select customers. He was helping Thor ease into this.

On a Tuesday morning, Lewis woke them with the news that there was a man in the kitchen.

"What kind of man?" Loki asked sleepily.

"A handsome man," she said. "I mean... If you like that kind, he's handsome enough. Speaks German well enough for a foreigner. Says he's looking for work."

"Then he can use a room like everyone else."

She smiled. "I really don't think that's the kind of work he's looking for."

Thor frowned as he heard a strange sound floating up from downstairs. Music? But not any music like he'd ever heard. It was rich and warm, but brassy too, like the military bands he'd been used to hearing and yet not at all like them. Smooth. Playful.

Loki rolled out of bed, still dressed from the night before, smiling wickedly.

"A musician. Clint never had music in the show and I always thought we could use some. Dancing without music always looks stupid."

Thor followed him downstairs, their usual guests in various states of undress shuffling out of their rooms and heading towards the sound. There was laughter and applause. It seemed their visitor had some support already.

Loki shouldered his way through the throng without much care, Thor following behind.

The man was sat at their kitchen table playing a sort of horn, his fingers moving skillfully across valves and keys. It was certainly... interesting. Like nothing Thor had ever heard, but he thought he liked it all the same.

He finished his playing with a flourish, applause and chatter erupting. Thor could quite see what Lewis had meant. He was indeed handsome, high cheekbones and an easy smile, teeth bright against his dark skin. Perhaps it was not so much handsomeness but charm. He was accepting the attention eagerly enough.

"Alright," Loki said, clapping loudly. "Shoo, the lot of you. I'll handle my business in private, if you don't mind."

There were some irritated murmurs at that, but they went all the same, heedless of Thor's attempts to smile at them as he and Loki were left alone with the stranger.

"So," Loki said. "What brings a man of your talents to a place like this?"

"It's a theatre, isn't it?"

Loki smiled. "Of sorts. Perhaps I should word my question differently. You are not from this city. What brings you here?"

"Not from this country, you mean. You can say it. It's true. My name is Sam Wilson. I'm from Harlem, New York. And I'm wondering if you have any use of a saxophone among your performers."

Loki tilted his head to the side, eyes calculating. He wanted this, Thor thought, but he was being cautious.

"You haven't answered my question, Mr Wilson. The journey from Harlem to Berlin seems to me an odd one."

He shrugged, placing his instrument gently in its case.

"I was in the infantry. Segregated infantry of course. Didn't want us dying next to the wrong guy. And, well... Despite it all, I liked it here in Europe. Like the air somehow. Decided I'd stay, even though it's hard. My reasons are my own and I intend for them to stay that way, if you don't mind. Seems to be the common way around here. Besides, anyone says anything about me or my skin, I can barely understand them."

Thor severely doubted that was true. His German was too good to have any comprehension difficulties. Still, he could understand the urge to ignore such remarks, perhaps even pleading ignorance of them. Beside him, Loki nodded slightly.

"We're a brothel and cabaret. I hope you understand that."

"I did, yes. The door girl, Lewis, she said. Seemed worried that might put me off. And so you must be Loki Odinson?"

"Correct. This is my brother, Thor. We have sex with each other for money and pleasure. Is that a problem?"

He glanced between them.

"Seriously? That's... That's unique."

"Oh, we know. That's partially the point. Still, is that a problem?"

He shrugged. Thor wondered what he'd seen that he could just let such a shocking thing go by with so little comment.

"If you're willing to pay me to play, what you get up to is none of my business."

Loki smiled, shook his hand across the table, and began to explain how the house worked.

Before too long, he'd offered him a room and board as well.


	51. Chapter 51

It was called jazz, the music that Sam played, and apparently it was hugely popular. Thor wouldn't know. Didn't get out often enough. But he liked it well enough. The performers seemed to enjoy having music as well.

In fact, it was amazing how quickly he fit in. Some people were just good at making friends, Thor supposed. He certainly became a firm favourite with all the women. Loki seemed to enjoy having a fellow musician to talk to.

And Thor...

Well, he still had his concerns and nerves, but he was getting better as a performer. They took their second client the day after Sam arrived, without any problems. Third, fourth, fifth...

He learned to tie Loki up carefully, never hurting him but kissing his wrists afterwards all the same. He learned to experiment with other positions, having Loki on his hands and knees, in his lap, lying in front of him.

Which wasn't to say there were never issues. He didn't like it when the clients tried to touch. Some of them liked to sit on the bed, Loki's head in their lap, watching his face. The growl he'd let out at the first man who'd suggested he could have Loki's mouth had not even had a trace of pretence about it.

Loki had had words with him about it that night.

"It's just my mouth," he said. "What's the problem? I still do that on stage and you don't care then."

Thor sighed. He did care, very much, but he knew how badly Loki would respond to being told what to do. Or rather what not to do.

"But when I'm making you moan, I want to hear you," he said, trying to appeal to Loki's pride. He did so like to know his efforts were appreciated.

"I can moan around a cock, you know. I'll show you, if you don't believe me."

Thor moved away, ending up against the wall as Loki reached for his trousers.

"You won't feel any pleasure from that," he protested.

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes, reaching over to get the oil from the dressing table.

"Then use your fingers," he said. "You're really getting good with them these days. Nice and confident."

He never felt confident. He generally felt fairly stunned that he could make Loki cry out just by rubbing in the right place.

But it was clear that Loki wasn't about to let this go without a fight.

"I think you'd be good at sucking cock if you tried," he said thoughtfully. "You're always so eager to please."

Ah. A potential way out.

"Why don't you teach me, then?" Thor asked.

Loki scoffed.

"Really?"

Thor began shuffling down the bed.

"Why not? When's the last time someone did this for you?"

"Not since my pre-Magpie days."

"Then it's something that only I would do with you? Hmm..."

He was laying it on thick, he knew, but he did like the idea of having something only they shared.

He pulled off Loki's trousers, his cock lying against his thigh, still soft. How difficult could it be? He took the head between his lips and tried giving it a light suck. Loki gasped sharply above him, propped up on his elbows.

"You lie back and let me take care of you."

A breathy laugh.

"Oh, but I want to _watch..._ Go slowly. Just kiss it."

Seeing Loki's cock thicken beneath his attentions, hearing him sigh and hum in pleasure... It excited Thor immensely.

"Open your mouth. Careful. Careful with your teeth. Oh... Mmm, that's nice."

No matter how he tried, he couldn't take it as deep as he wanted. He didn't want to choke, but he just couldn't...

"Use your hand," Loki said. "Don't hurt yourself. Yes, like that... Ah, yes..."

Thor tried to use all the skills he'd seen Loki use. Sucking hard and then gently, massaging with his tongue, bobbing his head.

"God, your mouth, Thor... Oh, you'll be so good at this with a little pract-ah!"

Being taught was one thing, but being patronised was quite another. He wanted Loki panting for breath, crying out helplessly.

Having him buck up reflexively was nice too, as Thor experimented with humming around the length of Loki's cock and letting him thrust upwards a little. He could imagine himself learning to do this properly, having Loki take his pleasure like this. He could make him feel so...

"Oh, so good... Oh... Oh, yes... Ah!"

The sudden rush of spend into his mouth gave Thor a shock. He didn't know how he had expected it to taste, but not as it did, even more bitter than the salty taste of flesh. He just about managed to hold back a cough, lunging for the water glass as Loki made sympathetic noises.

"I should have warned you," he said. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Just... Ugh..."

"Oh, I know. Vile, isn't it? But you get used to it. Now get over here."

Kisses tasted much better.

"If you want to use your mouth in the Nest, I suppose I can put up with that. If you want to."

"Put up with it?"

Thor sighed and nuzzled into him.

"You know what I mean."

"Mmm... Yes. I suppose I do."


	52. Chapter 52

"Oh, you like that, don't you? That's it, take it, take it all..."

Thor struggled not to roll his eyes. He knew how Loki sounded when he was struggling to take someone's cock into his mouth, and this was all fake. He ran a finger up Loki's spine to make him shiver, teasing him and feeling him try to hold back his laughter.

It had been months since they first started doing this, allowing clients to be actively involved in sessions, and business was booming.

At first, Thor hadn't liked it at all. He felt they didn't realise what a privilege it was to touch Loki, let alone be pleasured by him. But gradually, he learned to be more accepting. Loki was skilled at it, and it was fun to make him moan and hear the client grunt at it.

Right now, he was making Loki wait, teasing him by running his hands all over him, stroking the sensitive skin around his entrance, generally making him quiver with want.

Sometimes he wondered if Loki didn't like sex just a little too much. He certainly seemed to have boundless energy for it.

"Is he sucking you well?" he asked. 

He disliked this man, one who'd been attending the show for a few weeks but had only recently sidled up to Thor and made an appointment. His nerves were matched by his entitlement, giving orders in a slightly tremulous voice. He seemed young, younger than Loki certainly, and Thor wondered idly which of the grand families was paying for their son to mouth off to them.

"He's a dream. A perfect slut. That's it, suck my cock."

"Shall I fuck him then? As a reward?"

Based on the reaction, Loki must be giving him a wide-eyed look of pleading.

"I think I'd like to see that. Wait, let me watch him yield to it."

He moved around to look, Thor obliging by pushing Loki's cheeks apart as he rubbed his cock between them, finally having mercy and pushing in, thinking that Loki might be laying it on a little thick with his moaning today.

"Oh, beautiful. Again, do it again."

He seemed to like watching Loki's hole close around nothing, having Thor pull out and press back in several times.

"My mouth is empty," Loki complained, making Thor laugh. He had no patience for this one, it seemed.

"Greedy whore," the client said. "Need to be filled at both ends, do you? Well, let's see if we can't do something about that..."

Minutes later, he was gasping out his climax. They seldom lasted long when Loki had decided to be rid of them.

"Make him come," he panted, walking on shaking legs to the chair. "I want to see him come."

Gladly. Thor pulled Loki upright until he was almost sitting in his lap, stroking his cock and letting gravity help with his thrusts, kissing his neck.

"You're so beautiful together. Make him spill, go on."

Such orders always rankled Thor a little. Like they could come on demand. These things took time and skill.

A twist of his wrist, a tiny change in angle, a little nip of teeth against sensitive skin... Loki gasped in the middle of his exaggerated moans. Thor smiled as he felt his shudders, his body twitching as he spilled all over Thor's hand. Sometimes Thor pulled out before finishing, but he couldn't be bothered today. Loki seemed to prefer it somehow. Or at least appeared to.

Thor lounged on the bed while Loki dealt with payment, noticing immediately that frowning when he returned from showing the client out.

"What's wrong?" Thor asked. "He didn't try to haggle, did he?"

"No. No, it's... It's nothing."

"Loki..."

"He paid in full. No problems."

Thor still didn't trust this as Loki sat down on the end of the bed and rubbed his calf a little.

"What is it?"

Loki sighed, a little angrily.

"He asked how much we would charge for you to fuck him, alright?"

Thor was quite taken aback. Loki was who they came for, that and the taboo of an improper relationship. The idea that someone might want him...

"What did you say?"

"I told him no, of course. What else would I have said?"

And Thor was glad of that. He was. But at the same time, he felt it was a little unfair of Loki to be angry at the idea.

"Are you jealous?" he half-teased.

Loki pouted at him as he crawled up his body and settling on it, using his chest as a pillow.

"You don't just have sex," he said. "You have feelings all tied up in it."

Ah, so he didn't want anyone else getting his love. It was quite sweet in its way.

"I love you," Thor said. "And I have no interest in taking clients by myself. Who'd cover up my slips then?"

Still, Loki seemed distinctly troubled as they cleaned themselves up and changed the velvet, even Sam noticing that they weren't themselves.

"You two had a fight?" he asked.

"No," Thor said quickly. "We just had a long session earlier. Quite tiring."

He was very clearly not convinced.

"A woman came by while you were, uh... occupied, by the way. Short-hair, smoked spectacles. Says she needs a meeting with you urgently."

Loki was grinding coffee like it was responsible for his mood.

"Did she give a name?"

"She said you'd know who she was."

Loki finally laughed, a little tension leaving him.

"I believe that was probably Nebula. She's an acquaintance. Though what she wants is anyone's guess."

"And dark eyeglasses so early in April?" Thor said. "It's hardly the season for those."

"Well, women's fashions are an impractical enigma. Look at what Darcy wears. She can barely walk properly in it, it makes her stride all wrong. Perhaps it's the latest craze. Still, we must ensure we are available for her return. If it's very important, I expect she'll be back tomorrow."

She wasn't.

She turned up at the door during the show that night instead.


	53. Chapter 53

Thor was aware of the commotion before he saw her, tall and haughty and wearing her dark glasses, ignoring the clumsy comments from the waiting patrons.

A woman coming along with her lover or sometimes husband was rare enough, but a woman coming on her own was almost unheard of.

"Miss," Thor said uncertainly when she reached the head of the queue, nodding at her.

"I'm hoping to make an appointment for tonight," she said icily. "Since that appears to be the only way to get hold of your brother."

Thor hesitated before stepping aside.

"Sit by our saxophonist Sam. He'll take you backstage during a pause. Tell him I sent you."

It rattled him. What could be so important? Considering she and Loki had only met once and had not, to his knowledge, had any other contact since then, why was she so impatient to see him?

Whatever it was, he was sure it couldn't be good.

He was distracted all evening. He knew he wasn't engaging as he usually did, unable to parry the questions and insinuations of the queue with his usual flair. He hoped they would just assume he was tired.

The room was cleared far more rapidly than usual at the end of the show as Thor was keen to get backstage and find out what exactly was going on.

Not that Loki was showing so much eagerness. He was totting up the day's profits for division, presumably to keep everyone happy and to get them out of his hair before he handled their visitor.

Nebula's scowl was visible under her spectacles which were concerning Thor immensely. It was night and she was inside. There was something decidedly not right about this.

Loki seemed to think so too. The signs were subtle, but Thor could see them. The tight jaw, uneasy eyes... He was worried, that was certain.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of such an urgent call?" he asked. "I assume you're not looking for work."

She sighed irritably, finally removing the glasses. Thor swallowed hard. Underneath them, her right eye was swollen and bruised, a scar on the lid that might have been caused by a ring. She'd been hit, hard by the looks of things. No wonder she was hiding it.

And he could bet he knew who'd done it.

"I'm going to commit a murder," she said calmly. "Perhaps two. My fiancé and my father."

There was a beat of silence before Loki laughed.

"Alright," he said. "Fine. And you're telling me this because...?"

"If you help me in this, when I am in charge, I will remove the perpetual profit share. You'll be able to keep all your earnings."

Thor worried when Loki seemed to actually be considering it.

"No," he said. "Not murder, Loki, we can't."

"Oh, I don't expect you to do it," Nebula said. "Just to give me assistance. I'll not have the satisfaction taken from me."

Loki squeezed Thor's hand lightly, reassuringly.

"I understand killing Ronan," he said. "But why your father?"

Her nostrils flared angrily, one-eyed gaze steely.

"He might not have thrown the punch, but he stood by and did nothing to stop it. He always taught me that desperate measures could be weapons. He taught me how to be what I am. Why should I not practise my lessons?"

This was not right. Even one such as Ronan, to sit and plot his death? Thor found the very idea abhorrent.

"How would you do it?" Loki asked.

"That's where I hoped you might help. Passion gone wrong, I thought. You know what he likes."

"He's more likely to kill his partner than injured himself," Thor said, the image of bruises on Loki's neck still far too easy to bring to mind.

"Poison then. Why not? Eat enough black market food, you'll find a bad lot soon enough."

Loki smiled at her, a look of faintly patronising politeness.

"I'm not going to risk our reputation for excellent meals by having someone die after eating one," he said. "But you're right. I know what Ronan likes. And maybe I can help you."

"No," Thor said again. "We can't."

"Oh, please, you fantasised about killing him for weeks."

"That was different. He hurt you."

"But if he's hurting someone else it's allowed?"

Thor looked away, embarrassed. That wasn't what he meant and Loki knew it. He was still staring at the floor when Loki addressed Nebula again.

"It can't happen here," he said. "Your father would suspect too much."

"He'll suspect me wherever it happens. Another reason to kill him too."

Loki twisted his mouth, thinking.

"Leave it with me," he said. "And be sure to let me know if circumstances change."

"I won't change my mind."

"No, darling, I meant if you just slipped a blade between his ribs. I'd hate to come up with a whole scheme unnecessarily. Now, are you staying the night? It's rather late for a lady to be walking home alone."

She agreed she would, snorting when Loki tried to make a show of offering her a free room.

Murder. The thought would not leave Thor's head as they bought their nightly supplies.

He was determined to discourage Loki from this.


	54. Chapter 54

"We can't do this," he said urgently as they lay in bed together. "We can't help her. Threatening a man like that is practically suicide, you know it is."

"Says the man who once tried to break his jaw live on stage."

Thor huffed and grumbled. It was impossible to argue with Loki. He twisted everything up until Thor felt like he was almost asserting the opposite of what he wanted to say.

"I understand that it's dangerous," Loki said, finding his face in the darkness and cupping it gently. "That's why I think we should play the long game."

"How long?"

He heard a little shuffling, like Loki was trying to burrow deeper under the covers.

"Two or three years?"

"Years?! And what should she do in the meantime, just live with it?"

"Thought you didn't want to do this at all?"

"I don't, but..."

"But you also don't want to leave a lady in distress. You know she'd cut your throat in a heartbeat? She's Thanos's daughter after all."

"Well, still. I haven't completely lost my morals."

"And I have, I suppose?"

Oh, there was no point in having this argument now. Loki was too sharp for this time of night, his mind apparently unclouded by fear. Thor rolled away to face the wall, heating the sad sigh behind him.

"You're the one who wanted to discuss it."

Loki folded himself in behind, wrapping his arm around Thor's chest.

"I understand your misgivings," he said. "Believe me, I do. But this could be useful. We'll save faster, we'll be on good terms with Nebula. She's going to kill him, with or without us."

"Then what's to stop her coming after us, in time? Or even now, what will hold her back when you tell her to put up with him for another two years?"

"She'll see the intelligence behind it. Killing him so soon after a fight is too obvious. Thanos would know she'd done it and not be best pleased to find his most trusted footsoldier gone. Take time over it and take the suspicion away. Enjoy the knowledge of how satisfying it will be in the end."

The words might not be, but Loki's tone was all Magpie in a way he hadn't tried to use on Thor for months. He still heard it in the way he talked to clients, so having it purred into his ear now just set his teeth on edge.

"These are violent people, Loki," he said desperately. "I don't like having to deal with them. I just keep thinking of Lewis and Sam and all of them. They trust us to keep them safe. How can we do that if we're bringing murder into the building?"

Loki stroked his chest, trying to soothe his restless heartbeat.

"We are making them safer," he said. "Darcy has a room and a schedule. Her clients know where she is and she doesn't have to worry about chancing the street or having the police move her onto an unsafe patch. And Sam has a roof over his head, a steady income..."

"They trust us," Thor insisted.

"So, what, you want to ask them first?"

No, of course not. That was ridiculous and Loki knew it, which was why he had said it and why he continued to press at that idea just to be needling.

"You might be on to something," he said. "Darcy would be on board. A little payback against the kind of person who used to hurt her? I rather think she'd like that. Quite the wildcat when roused. It might awaken something in her."

"Don't," Thor said. "Don't even joke about that. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you're the one who said it, not me."

"Said what?"

"That you know what killing feels like and I don't."

Thor felt it like a slap to the face and jerked away, determined not to say anything else that night. He didn't want to fight. He wanted to sleep. Though his rushing thoughts were likely to make that quite impossible.

He would feel safer if Ronan was gone. If he knew he wasn't going to show up and demand to be allowed to harm Loki for his own pleasure. For the right price, Loki would let him. He'd done it before.

His eyes watered at just the thought, his breathing growing quick and nervous.

But murder, even for good reasons, was still murder. This was not self-defence, the product of a few moment's panic and instincts. This was premeditated and plotted and considered and...

And he was afraid.

Loki's hold of him grew lax as he fell asleep, his arm becoming dead weight. Thor found himself listening for his breathing, trying to time his own to match.

He gave up after a few moments. Loki must have a smaller lung capacity or something. Kept going out of rhythm.

If he was awake, Thor would think he was doing it on purpose.


	55. Chapter 55

Waking alone wasn't a shock. He'd been lying awake worrying for a long time after Loki had gone to sleep. It made sense that he was up first.

It was a little unusual to find yet another stranger in the kitchen. Of course, he didn't know everyone who ever stayed with them, but this lady was markedly different. She was nervous and out-of-place, suspicious. Loki seemed to know her though, judging from how he was chatting to her as Thor arrived.

"It made sense," he was saying. "After all, this was the first place you looked, wasn't it?"

She sighed heavily. The bags under her eyes, the general air of exhaustion... He knew this look. He'd seen it in the mirror often enough. Someone reaching the end of their tether. Someone desperately looking for other options.

"Thor, Gamora. Gamora, Thor," Loki said, waving cutlery between the two of them. "I left your dinner in the pantry cupboard."

Sure enough, there were two plates sitting there waiting.

"Has Miss Nebula not come down yet?" he asked, making his way back to the table.

"It's good to let people sleep sometimes," Loki said pointedly. "Gives them plenty of energy for the afternoon ahead."

They must have a session booked. Thor had quite forgotten. Which wasn't at all like him, normally he had the entire schedule memorised.

"Besides, Sam will start practising in a little while. That should wake her. But as I was saying, I think her point of view makes perfect sense. Why should she run away from what's hers by right?"

Gamora put her head in her hands and Thor felt a strong pang of sympathy. This must be the sister. Trying to talk her sibling out of dangerous situations and questionable decisions and didn't _that_ sound horribly familiar?

They'd probably not end up in the same situation that he and Loki were in though. They probably had a more normal relationship. For a given degree of normal, given who their father was.

"She doesn't listen to me," Gamora said. "She doesn't believe that there's always another option."

"Maybe for her there isn't. Have you thought of that? She's been preparing to take over the business her whole life. It's understandable that she won't want to give it up without a fight."

"Well, I wish she would. What we do... What _he_ does... It's bad for the city. Bad for everyone who lives here. And Nebula believes that too, I know she does."

"No," Nebula said from the doorway. "I resent the fact that he's so inflexible. It's unsustainable. I'll do it better."

The swelling had subsided, but there was still evident scarring there. It looked permanent. Still, at least it seemed her sight was unharmed.

What a world if that was the only good point he could find.

Loki was very attentive to her, fetching her meal, offering her a choice of coffee or the meagre tea selection they had, grinding a fresh supply of mostly real beans. Thor watched his movements carefully, barely tasting his lukewarm food. So respectful. Did it come from fear? He didn't think so. It was more like Loki had seen an opportunity to gain favour early.

He couldn't decide how old Nebula was. He could work it out surely... If she'd been away being 'finished' when Loki was living in the townhouse three years ago, that would make her around twenty. So young... And that made Gamora even younger, eighteen or nineteen.

They were practically children. He was nearly ten years their senior.

They shouldn't be in this situation, he thought, stabbing at his vegetables with his fork.

"Have you considered my suggestion?" Nebula asked.

"Indeed," Loki said, glancing towards her sister. "I'll be in touch, don't worry. I think it will be good for business."

Thor's heart ached for Gamora, the lost frown on her face as her eyes flicked back and forth between them. She just wanted to stop this. She just wanted her sister to be safe.

But she probably knew just as well as he did that it's dreadfully difficult to save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

He couldn't bear it, finding his mop and bucket and heading for the stage. It always made him feel better, scrubbing the boards down.

He ought to have guessed Sam might be in there. It was more convenient for him to practise in the right accoustic environment. He was playing something more mournful than his usual playful show music though, perfectly matching Thor's mood as he sloshed water around the place.

A strange instrument. It really did seem to sing in a way that no other instrument had in Thor's experience. Oh, Loki could draw the most beautiful and haunting sounds from the piano, but this was like a human voice almost. Rich and deep and melancholy.

He applauded afterwards, standing in a sea of suds.

"What music was that?" he asked.

"Oh... Just an old song my mother used to sing. And her mother before her and so on."

"What's it about?"

Sam laughed, flexing his fingers.

"Rivers, mostly."

Thor nodded vaguely. If it was a folk song, there was often some kind of nature reference.

"Had a fight?" Sam asked, cutting through his thoughts. "You seem a little... I don't know."

"A disagreement, not a fight."

"Ah, I see... Well, I'm sure a little time in the Nest will sort you right out."

Thor forced a smile. If only it were that easy.

If only he could just fuck Loki into agreeing with him, all his troubles would be over.


	56. Chapter 56

The stage was almost dry after several more tunes from Sam when Loki appeared in the doorway and summoned Thor with a jerk of his head. Time for their session then.

Thor couldn't quite get Sam's words out of his head. It wouldn't fix anything, but maybe playing a little more assertively than he normally did would make Loki recognise that he was serious.

Or maybe he just wanted the stress relief. Could be that floating through his head too.

The client was new and nervous. Good. Thor always preferred those who didn't really know what they wanted. It meant he had far more leeway to do as he wished. He even had to prod to get the order to undress. Suggestion would go a long way, it seemed.

"Would you like me to tie him up?"

Loki's eyes were a little sharp at that suggestion, but Thor just raised his eyebrows at him in silent challenge as he found the ropes, dragging him into a filthy kiss that was all about distraction as he slipped the first loose loop around both his wrists and tugged lightly to tighten it _just_ so.

Loki looked back over his shoulder as Thor eased him onto his front, setting about making a ladder of ropes down his forearms.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a hint of concern beneath his playful tone.

"Tying you up, brother. Stilling your squirming and your wandering hands. Why, would you prefer I did it differently?"

He was giving the option. Loki couldn't say that he hadn't. He had given a clear option to change things. He watched Loki's mouth grow thin, stubbornness warring with want.

"Tie them above my head. I'll cramp like this."

Thor smiled down at him, pressing his wrists closer together as he pulled the knots loose and let Loki arrange himself as he saw fit. On his back, holding his own elbows. Thor liked that position too. It made it much easier to keep his head comfortably on the pillows.

"Better?"

"Mm-hm."

"Good."

With that, Thor set about trying to shock him with pleasure. His cock had been only a little plump when he turned onto his back, but a few passes of Thor's tongue had it standing proud from his body. Loki's breathing grew shaky, shuddering...

He let up far too early, at least for Loki's liking, leaving him whining as he fetched the oil, leaving down to nuzzle at his face. Loki tried for kisses and seemed decidedly annoyed when they weren't forthcoming.

"Would you care to do the honours?"

A hard swallow as the man seemed to realise he was being spoken to, palming his own cock lazily. And then a brusque head shake. He didn't want to break the spell Thor had woven.

Very well then. Thor carefully coated a finger, letting it shine in the lamplight before bringing it down between Loki's spread legs, teasing him mercilessly.

"Thor..."

"What's that?"

"Please?"

Well, he was asking nicely. Still, Thor was definitely not giving him what he wanted, only one finger and torturously slowly drawing it in and out. Loki tried fruitlessly to push himself down the bed, pouting in a highly becoming manner when he couldn't find enough purchase on the velvet.

And Thor couldn't resist that look. Which admittedly was the cause of a lot of his problems. Still, he gave Loki the second finger he was evidently fishing for and began rubbing gently at his prostate, getting a steady stream of moans in response.

"He's beautiful like this, isn't he?" Thor murmured, not really addressing their client at all.

He was just voicing what he thought, before leaning down and taking Loki's cock between his lips again. This was still unprecedented in the Nest and he could see in every inch of Loki's straining muscles a curiosity barely held back. This was new and Loki loved new things. Especially if they meant Thor tending to him so openly.

He timed it well, his fingers playing counterpoint to his tongue, listening as Loki's cries grew higher and higher, desperate almost.

And then he stopped.

Loki let out a mournful noise, a yowl of disappointment. Thor pulled him down the bed and deliberately loomed over him, winking before he pushed his cock in with one steady action. Loki's head went back, mouth open around a cry. He'd already been so close and now Thor was deliberately angling in just the right way, driving him forwards.

"Tho-or... Oh! Ohh..."

He didn't care about putting on a show right now. He was going to drag Loki right to the edge and keep him there, balancing on the line between crest and crash. His determination helped, keeping his mind off his own pleasure, which was undeniable. He could hardly be unaffected by the clenching and the desperate noises Loki was making.

"Touch me," Loki begged. "Please, touch me."

His voice was shaking, his cock leaking helplessly, but Thor was not done with him yet. Instead he just upped the pace, making Loki almost scream before he finally had mercy.

Barely one stroke to his cock and Loki was coming, gasping for breath as he spilled and spilled all over his stomach, grunting through the last of Thor's thrusts.

Only a light cough made Thor remember that there was still someone else in the room, awkwardly pulling out and turning to see him using the towel left out for the convenience of clients.

"That was... intense," he said.

Thor undid the ropes, leaving Loki sprawled on his back, muscles twitching occasionally.

"So, um... Payment?"

Loki flailed a hand.

"You deal with it," he said. "I can't move yet."

Indeed, he still hadn't when Thor returned, just opening his arms to invite cuddles.

"I should upset you more often if this is my reward."

"I'm not upset."

Loki laughed as he snuggled closer.

"Don't lie, Thor. You're not very good at it."


	57. Chapter 57

Lewis was behaving rather suspiciously. Her eyes seemed a little shifty and she kept opening her mouth and then closing it again. Thor wondered if she had something she needed to tell them.

Perhaps she was leaving. Perhaps she was pregnant.

He got his answer when Loki was outside hanging sheets up and she sidled up to him, whispering urgently.

"The girl gave me this and said I was to give it to you and only to you. Do not tell Loki."

It was a piece of paper, folded to the size of a postage stamp almost. A letter? A secret letter?

Thor nodded and tucked it into his pocket. He would read it later, alone.

Which turned out to be more difficult than he expected. He hadn't realised it before, but he was basically never out of Loki's sight except when he was on the door and then he was so busy with people that he couldn't find time to step aside and read it.

It was like a hot coal in his pocket. He could feel it sitting there. Waiting. The knowledge of something concealed from his brother. Was this how Loki felt all the time when he had been lying about his supposed debts? This horrible blend of guilt and nerves? How could he bear it?

"Are you well, Thor?" Loki asked as they walked to their usual meeting with the black market salespeople. "Don't tell me you're still upset about this whole Ronan thing. It will likely never touch us, you know."

"I told you, I'm not upset."

"And I told you not to lie."

Breathe in, breathe out. He didn't know. He never needed to know... But what if holding his tongue was suspicious? What if Loki could tell somehow that he was holding back?

This was exhausting and he was glad to go to bed. Sleep was safe, relatively. He could not give himself away then. Unless he began talking in his dreams again.

Loki cuddled close to him, idly stroking his chest with one finger.

"I thought we were better after the session this afternoon. I thought you'd got it all out of your system."

"This is an ongoing issue," Thor said. "Don't prod me."

"So you _are_ upset."

Thor sighed. Of course he was. And having his nose rubbed in it was not helping.

"Leave me be."

Loki cooed at him and kissed his cheek.

"Fine. But if you want to try fucking out your frustration again, you know where I am."

Thor rolled his eyes before closing them firmly. Sleep eluded him though. The letter was still in his trouser pocket, waiting. Maybe if he stayed awake longer than Loki...?

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he slipped out of bed, extracting himself from Loki's arms. He couldn't read it here. If Loki woke up and saw him, he would demand to know what he had. No. Instead he crept downstairs to the kitchen, lighting a candle to read by.

His breath was short and nervous, glancing towards the door as he unfolded the paper.

_Mr Odinson,_

_It seems to me that we share an opinion on the joint enterprise which my sister and your brother seem determined to embark upon. As such, I suggest an alliance. Perhaps between the two of us, we can come up with some scheme to prevent this. Although I am no friend to my father's associates, I would rather their blood was not on Nebula's hands. Or anyone's blood for that matter. I imagine you have similar concerns._

_My sister is hosting a dinner party next week. I shall encourage her to invite you and the younger Mr Odinson. It will be amusing to her, I think, to have him as an honoured guest in a house which tried so hard to degrade him. Placed in the same room, we may talk quietly and see where we stand._

_I hope I can find a friend in you. I feel we could both do with one._

_Yours hopefully,_

_Gamora_

Thor read the letter several times before tearing it up and putting it into the grate beneath some coal. It would be burned come the morning.

Loki murmured a complaint as he crawled back into bed.

"Cold..."

"I needed a glass of water."

Loki rolled away from his chilled skin, stealing most of the blanket in the process.

Maybe he was getting better at this lying business after all.


	58. Chapter 58

It felt like Nebula's visit hadn't really happened. Two days passed completely normally. Normal cleaning, normal shows, normal sex.

Well, the sex was nearly normal anyway. Loki was definitely making a point of being very attentive towards him. Outside of the Nest, he was cuddly and keen for kisses, desperate for closeness and intimacy. Which Thor enjoyed very much. Of course he did. He just wished it didn't feel like Loki was just trying to appease him rather than seeking such things because he wanted them.

And that made him wonder if Loki did really ever want it. How would he know? Could he ever really trust it or would he always be a slave to these same old doubts?

The messenger boy appeared during dinner one morning and Loki planted himself in Thor's lap to read the card. He giggled, squirming to get himself comfortable.

"We're invited to a celebration," he said. "Nebula wants us in her house. She must have plans to tell me about."

Thor was glad Loki didn't see him swallow hard, preparing himself for pretence.

"What kind of celebration?"

"Oh, the best kind. Celebrating that there's nothing much worth celebrating in the world."

That didn't sound like the best kind, but Thor wasn't in a mood to argue. Instead he wrapped his arms around Loki's waist and held him tight. He felt awful, lying like this, even if just by omission. Having a different agenda to his brother and secretly at that. It almost felt like being unfaithful.

Which was ridiculous. Faithfulness was not part of their relationship. Or rather, it was not a physical fidelity. Or rather... Well, he wasn't even sure now he was thinking of it.

He was the only man Loki had sex with, complete sex. He was the only one who made Loki come. The others were just business. They didn't matter. He didn't care about them because Loki didn't care about them.

His mind drifted back to the man who had asked to be fucked by him. To how Loki had reacted. He hadn't liked that idea one little bit. He wanted Thor all to himself. He wanted faithfulness from him. What did that mean? Why was it such a different question?

And, of course, he didn't want to take clients of his own. It would be too strange, having to pretend that way. He probably wouldn't be able to manage it.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Loki asked.

Thor blinked back to the present. He'd been staring into space without realising it.

"Just how much I love you."

Loki frowned at him over one shoulder and let out a nervous little laugh. He was even blushing a little.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Supposed...? Just what I say. You know I do."

Loki looked away, embarrassed. He wriggled with a bit more purpose.

"Well, maybe you should take me to bed and make me feel loved then."

Thor nuzzled against his hair, pulling him closer.

"Would you believe it if I did?"

"I do believe it."

"Hmm. We have sex a lot, but I hardly ever have the time to love you the way I want to."

"And how is that?"

"Come upstairs and find out."

Why was he doing this? Out of guilt, he knew. Trying to make himself feel better about lying to Loki. For having plans that deliberately circumvented his wants. Trying to distract them both.

"You think promises will impress me? Will tempt me?" Loki asked, filling in the response card. "You'll have to try harder than that. Much harder."

"Harder," Thor echoed thoughtfully, not even being subtle. "Now there's a word I love to hear you say. I wonder how many other favourites of mine you can guess."

Loki giggled. A real, genuine giggle. His worldly brother, who had had so many lovers, was laughing and blushing like a youth in the first grip of romance.

"Well, let me think," he said. "How about 'more'? I think you would like that begged into your ear. You put great store in politeness, so I suppose 'please' must be on the list. How many more should I guess?"

"Let's say three more."

Loki made a great show of thinking before leaning back and sweeping Thor's hair out of the way, nosing his way up to Thor's ear to whisper.

"Fuck me, brother."

Thor practically growled, his cock twitching eagerly as Loki rocked his hips.

"Close enough," he muttered, shunting Loki to his feet and almost dragging him up the stairs, eager to be in private so he might peel off his clothes and have him bare and unseen. A little fun in the morning. A little honesty amongst his lies.

It took him mere moments to have Loki as he wanted him, nude on his back on the bed, legs bent, cock hard, interest written all over his face.

"You're beautiful when you're anticipating pleasure," Thor told him.

"I expect I'm more beautiful when I'm receiving it though."

Thor laughed as he found their underused private oil supply, holding it loosely in his good hand while his left tangled in Loki's hair as they kissed.

"Greedy," he admonished.

"You like me greedy. You like to know how much I want you."

"And how much do you want me?"

Loki brought their hips together, rolling, making their cocks rub together, both of them moaning at it.

"Does that give you an idea?"

"Many ideas. All of them filthy."

"Such promises will get you into trouble."

Loki always had a response, it seemed. But he enjoyed this kind of verbal sparring, the kind they didn't play at in the Nest. They both did. It was fun, trying to stump him.

But of course, Thor knew one sure way to make him quiet down...

Loki gasped as the first finger breached him, eyes shut like he didn't want to be distracted by his sight. Like he only wanted to feel...

"Hold on," Thor said, suddenly struck by an idea and needing to rush to their little clothes chest. "One moment."

Loki looked at him curiously as he returned to the bed holding a scarf, one of Loki's many presents from admirers. Pretty, but not worth much. He raised his hands above his head, waiting for Thor to tie him up.

"No," Thor said. "Not that. I want to blindfold you."

"Blindf... Why?"

"To heighten your anticipation. You won't know where I might choose to touch you next. Where I might kiss you..."

After a moment's contemplation, Loki nodded, letting Thor loop the fabric around his head.

"There now," Thor said. "Now you won't be expecting me to do this..."

He licked a quick stripe up Loki's sternum, making him jump slightly, a smile on his lips. A new game, one Thor intended to win as he eyed up Loki's sensitive nipples.

By the time he was pushing his cock inside, Thor had Loki panting beneath him, arching upwards to beg for attention he couldn't predict, teasing brushes of fingertips and firm touches coming at random.

"Mmm, Thor, yes..."

Gentle hip rolls. No need to rush. Thor breathed on one nipple to make it stiffen and then abruptly sucked the other, keeping Loki on edge during gentle kisses and gentler bites.

His lips were delicious, all the more so for the moans vibrating out of their kisses as Thor began speeding up, determined not to let the pace fall for even a moment.

He could taste Loki's pulse, every inch of his body singing with love for this ridiculous creature gasping in pleasure at his hands, trusting him to take care of him.

"There... Ooh, right there... Harder, make me come on your cock."

Who was he to disobey orders in such a situation? He made sure to get an excellent vantage point, sitting up to watch as Loki's muscles grew tense, his cock twitching and straining and finally spurting over both their hands.

"Beautiful," Thor murmured. "You're so beautiful."

Loki grinned, feeling for him, patting his flank.

"Go on then," he said. "Mark me. Fill me up."

"You're too sensitive for that."

"Thor... Come in me. I want you to. I want to feel this for hours. I can take it."

Well, alright. Thor was careful and gentle, trying to angle himself away from Loki's prostate.

"Faster," Loki said. "You won't spill like this."

"I don't want to hurt you."

Loki laughed breathlessly.

"Alright," he said. "Come here, let me use my hand on you."

That was much better. Beneath Loki's skillful attentions, it took him barely any time to reach his peak, folding Loki neatly into his arms afterwards.

"I love you."

"I believe you."

Thor gripped him tight and tried not to worry about how much longer that good faith might last.


	59. Chapter 59

Thor spent the whole week feeling guilty and trying to be extra attentive to make up for it. Loki seemed to interpret this as unease and was therefore extra attentive in return. Really this would be wonderful if he didn't know it was all born of a severe divide between them.

His nerves had gone beyond previous known levels and into a strange state that outwardly could be mistaken for calm by the time they were setting off to visit Nebula. Sam was in charge of the cabaret for one night only. He was trustworthy. All would be well.

At least, in the cabaret, all would be well. Thor was decidedly less comfortable about the dinner ahead.

"Smile, Thor," Loki urged, fluffing his furs up. In truth it was too warm in the early summer air for such a hot coat, but Loki was determined to wear it.

It had taken all his energy to persuade Loki to let him borrow Sam's jacket rather than wear his old uniform. It was a little too small, but he was more than willing to put up with that to avoid being part of whatever show Loki was trying to put on.

The house was impressive, Thor had to admit. Tall and imposing, columns and small balconies all along the facade. Rather more gold than he felt was tasteful.

Loki stopped him on the opposite side of the street and pointed upwards to a small window, two in from the left in the roof space.

"That's where I lived," he said. "And now here I am walking in on equal standing with the owner. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Thor didn't think so, but he nodded anyway. This was already unpleasant enough without upsetting Loki before they even got inside.

A butler opened the door, nodding to them politely and directing them through to the drawing room for an aperitif. Thor couldn't have felt less at home. This was not for their kind. They were used to visits being informal affairs, held at kitchen tables. This world of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres was as foreign to them as elephants and tigers.

He shouldn't have thought about those. Lewis had told him in rather graphic terms about the butchering and consumption of zoo animals during the 1917 winter. Needs must, he thought, but he hadn't needed that much detail about how difficult it was to decide whether the method used to slaughter the antelope was kosher.

The glass was awkward in his hand, sipping quickly, aware of being horribly out of place. The plush chairs, the floral centerpiece, the chandelier... It was too much. And to make matters worse, Loki seemed to be reveling in it, smiling and sparkling as he passed through the crowd to reach Nebula, resplendent in deep grey silk and heavy powder, no doubt hiding more bruises.

"Congratulations, darling. Quite the gathering. You must tell me who all these distinguished gentlemen are..."

Thor barely listened to her list of drug lords and property owners, feeling very conspicuous. He looked for Gamora in vain. Maybe she couldn't bear to be in a room with all these people. He wouldn't blame her.

His head was decidedly fuzzy around the edges when they were shown through to an opulent dining room, neat little cards laid out for each of them. Thor was relieved that they were far from Ronan - who was glowering at everyone - but less pleased to realise Gamora was sitting opposite him. The whole expanse of table separating them... He would have to hope he was able to speak quietly to her afterwards. As it was, he threw her a meaningful look and a nod and hoped she understood.

He hadn't even noticed that Thanos was not present until suddenly he was, quiet but imposing. He stepped into the room, scanned the table and froze.

"Why is there a whore at our table?"

Thor felt his cheeks burn. This was a mistake. They should leave, they should get out.

"I invited our friends, father," Nebula said, smugness oozing from her voice. "Our business partners. Sit down. Enjoy yourself."

Thor dared to glance sideways at Loki, trying to see how he was reacting. His face was serene. A perfect mask. Thor reached for his hand beneath the table and got a quick squeeze of reassurance. He wished he could trust it.

He wolfed down his salmon mousse far too quickly and was left staring at the weave of the table cloth for far, far too long before an unseen footman filled his glass in preparation for a toast.

This was going to be a long night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I have read or heard something somewhere about the starving people in Berlin eating the zoo animals.
> 
> But while trying to find sources for that, it seems that I might have actually been mistaking it for starving people in Paris eating the zoo animals during the Franco-Prussian War. My apologies for the confusion.
> 
> However, I liked the idea of Darcy teasing Thor too much to take it out.


	60. Chapter 60

Nebula said something about new beginnings, new eras. Thor wasn't really listening, more concerned with just trying to survive the evening so that he could talk with Gamora.

"You must be the brother, then," the man on his left said, voice all gravel and depth.

"I'm sorry?"

"The brother who caused all the trouble by not playing along with the sex show. Came round to him in the end though I hear."

Thor's hands were fists around his cutlery, trying hard to keep his temper under control.

"Well, I can't blame you. If I liked men, I would no doubt pay and queue up along with the rest of them."

Thor turned to look at him, noting his long white hair - white before his time by the looks of him - and his pale face. He seemed almost sickly, a light sheen of sweat on his skin.

"And what is your business, sir?" Thor asked. He might as well be civil. Or try to be.

"I run a clinic. Patch up those who get on the wrong side of people they shouldn't. With discretion above all else, of course. It's very important to keep these things quiet."

Hmm. A hospital for the likes of Ronan to drop off the victims they rather needed to survive their beatings and pay a fee to ensure the police were never involved. It made sense that there would be one.

He wondered if this man had tended to Nebula's eye. Surely a more respectable doctor would have asked too many awkward questions.

"So if you ever need any of your girls or boys checked for fitness..."

"They are not dogs in need of a vet, sir," Thor said sharply. "Though I thank you for your offer."

He attacked the steak placed in front of him with gusto, not even the red oozing from it putting him off for all it was underdone for his tastes. After all, if he was eating, he would not be expected to talk.

Gamora made eye contact with him across the table, looking faintly pained. She was seated beside a hulking figure who seemed determined to see down her blouse despite it being buttoned to the neck, rumbling and sputtering rather than talking as such.

The horror all started with his wine glass slipping from his hand.

Thor startled as he watched the man cough, reaching fruitlessly for his napkin before doubling over in pain. Gamora shrieked, leaping backwards from her seat as liquid quickly spread all over the table cloth. For a moment to Thor, it looked like blood. Like he'd been shot or stabbed.

The man to Loki's right side groaned, clunching his stomach and Thor found himself on his feet, dragging Loki upright and back as Hell itself seemed to erupt around them. Men up and down the table began spluttering and convulsing, choking. 

In his fear, it took him a moment to make sense of what he was seeing, the pained cries echoing around him, awful gurgling sounds and hands scrabbling at the table, limbs twisted horribly as their bodies convulsed, gasping for air in vain as their faces went blue.

Poison. They'd all been poisoned.

He looked at Loki in horror, a hideous fear racing down his spine, gripping him tight.

"What did they eat? Did you see? What was it?"

"I don't know," Loki said. "But I don't... I don't feel ill. Are you...?"

Apart from the panic racing through his veins, no, he didn't have any pains. He shook his head helplessly, holding Loki close as though he could protect him from the danger with his body alone.

Who else was unaffected? The man Thor had been speaking to was moving around, checking pulses with wide eyes. He had not been expecting this either, it seemed. Gamora had her hand clamped to her lips, but it seemed in horror rather than illness. One man even seemed to be calmy finishing off his drink in the corner, though Thor couldn't understand risking anything from the table now.

And then he realised that Nebula was laughing. Beside her, Ronan was almost slumped on the table, trying to push himself upright, and Thanos was regarding her with a look of... annoyance?

"We didn't have anything you didn't," he rasped, struggling to breathe, face twitching. "I kept watch on you. I suspected something like this. But you drank from the same bottle..."

"It wasn't in the wine, Father," she said as though explaining something to a young child. "Whatever did you think was in the mousse? The green parts?"

Thor looked at Loki. There had been a sort of roulade effect, herbs spiralled through the salmon. They had definitely eaten it, whatever it was.

"Parsley," Loki said uncertainly.

"Yours was," Nebula said head snapping up to look at them. "But, of course, it's only too easy to get parsley confused with hemlock. And I've heard that consuming so much as six or seven leaves of that particular herb can be fatal."

Ronan made a grab for her, trying to breathe through a throat that was rapidly closing and control spasming muscles. She evaded him without effort, yanking her skirts away from his grasp and tutting at the reddish stain his fingers left behind.

"Just imagine," she said. "What effect around twenty finely chopped leaves might have. Doesn't bear thinking about, does it?"

Thor certainly couldn't bear it. The stench, the groans of dying men, it was all too familiar. He seized Loki's hand and began making for the exit.

"A light supper will be served in the parlour, brothers Odinson," Nebula called, stopping them in their tracks. "And I trust you will join us for it."


	61. Chapter 61

"Father never treated the servants fairly," Nebula said, swirling a brandy. Thor hadn't exactly wanted one, but he found the smell of it helped clear his nose a little. "It was child's play to turn them against him."

Around fifteen had sat down to dinner, Thor thought. There were now six of them, tense and anxious. Except Nebula. She had the air of a queen, triumphant and radiant. Thor had his bad hand firmly around Loki's wrist, feeling his pulse beneath the pas of his fingers, desperate for assurance that he was well. Gamora was a strange blend of stunned and furious.

"You killed them," she said softly. "You just... You killed them."

"Self-defence," Nebula insisted. "How long before I was robbed of my freedom along with my inheritance? A simple case of mixed up herbs, a poor confused kitchen boy, a fatal error..."

"He could hang for this. You know he could."

"A mistake. There was no malice in it, no forethought. A tragic accident."

"And what if one of us had eaten it? What if there'd been a tragic accident there?"

"But you didn't. Every dish went to the intended recipient. The table settings were hardly put out haphazardly."

This was dangerous. Thor felt like he was in a cage. Trapped. Locked in with this woman who could and would kill at will and didn't seem concerned by the fact she could have slaughtered them all with the smallest of errors.

"So why us?" Loki asked. "Why do we get to live?"

"Why do you think?"

"Because we're useful."

She smiled. Like a cat. Like a tiger. Or at least how Thor thought such a creature might look.

"Ah, not just a pretty face and an available body. I knew you were one to watch from the first moment I heard of you. Dr Malekith Svart to your left has been of great service to me and I trust will be again. As has Mr Tivan, particularly with his expert knowledge of certain plants. And as for you, Gamora, believe it or not, I am not insensible to the bonds of sisterhood. I could not sit by and wait for Father to marry you off to some brute too. I would not."

"But you knew I didn't want this!"

"You're a child. You don't know what you need."

Gamora stammered slightly. The shock, Thor thought. All the plans they might have hatched together were useless now. And as for Nebula's understanding with Loki...

"The five percent," he asked. "Does it still stand?"

Nebula fixed him with a stare, the scar by her eye seeming livid in the firelight.

"I do not recall either you or your brother helping me. As such, it stands. And I would like to negotiate certain other services..."

Thor frowned. Sex? Surely not. Well, he... He knew women were lustful sometimes and enjoyed carnality and so forth, but he had never expected to have female clients as such and to discuss these private matters in front of other guests was...

"I require accommodation. I wish to have free, unimpeded use of some of your rooms."

That made more sense.

"What for?" Loki asked immediately.

"I'd have thought you'd have learned to keep your nose out of other people's business. Isn't prying what got you into your line of work in the first place?"

"How many rooms?" Thor asked.

"Two."

That wasn't as bad as he thought. They could minimise the disruption. If they moved Lewis's things up into Clint's old room, that would be one for a start and...

When had this become normal? He hadn't felt this kind of numb, dead calm in a long time, this rationalisation of irrational facts. His nose had never truly lost the stench of death and now it was renewed to him, seeping out from under the dining room door, and his mind was responding the only way it knew.

Some guests were yet groaning and coughing... They were not quite dead yet. Poor devils... No matter their crimes, this was a cruel end.

"Done," Loki said, standing up and knocking back the remainder of his brandy in one. "I trust you will meet with us in she time, to square the details?"

Nebula looked him up and down, eyes narrowing.

"Leaving so soon? Your brother has not finished his brandy and dessert is yet to be served."

Loki gave her a dazzling smile as Thor gulped the harsh liquor down, trying not to splutter at the burn.

"Couldn't possibly eat another bite. And as I suspect you have business to discuss with these gentlemen, I shall not stick my, ahem, nose anywhere it is not wanted. Come, Thor. Adieu, darling."

They fled. That was the only word for it. The pofaced butler seemed to take an age to fetch their coats and open the door just to vex them before letting them out into the street, gasping for fresh air.

"What do we do?" Thor said. "Loki, what do we do?"

"We go home," Loki said firmly. "We regroup. And we never accept a dinner party invitation from Nebula ever again."


	62. Chapter 62

He seemed terribly flippant, Thor thought.

"We can't stay," he said, rushing to follow Loki's quick steps. "She killed all those people. How soon before she kills us too?"

"And where would we go? No, we stick to the plan. Keep saving, leave once we can sustain ourselves in a new country. The Mark is stabilising already. It will get easier. And then we slip away when she least suspects it."

"And how long will that take?"

Loki sighed.

"Five years maybe?"

"Five... Five years? You want us to stay put for five years?"

"A lot can happen in that time. Don't worry about it. We'll survive, we always do."

"And in the meantime we go along with it? We go along with whatever she wants the rooms for?"

Loki stopped walking suddenly, his voice dropping to a hiss.

"What choice do we have, Thor? You think she doesn't have the police in her pocket too? I don't like this any more than you do, but I know when I'm in a corner. I know when it's best to back down and live to fight another day. And if you think for a minute, you'll remember you do too. Keep saving. Bide our time. Escape when that's actually a possibility."

He sounded dangerously sensible. If they ran now, she might track them down, especially if they couldn't afford go far. They were witnesses after all. Maybe Loki was right. Save enough to emigrate. Move on completely. Get where she wouldn't follow.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, breathing deeply, as though the air could free them from this awful quandary. Thor didn't feel safe until they were home and even then, closing the door felt like hiding from a wolf beneath a blanket.

"You're back early," Sam said, neatly filling in the takings book.

"Some of the guests were taken ill," Loki said smoothly, Thor only just able to hold back his wince. "Is Darcy around?"

"Why?"

Loki frowned slightly. That had been oddly sharp. Suspiciously so perhaps.

"Because I need to speak to her. It's nothing bad, don't worry. She working?"

"Uh, no. No, I already paid her. She's in her room."

Thor followed Loki upstairs, if only to make sure that he knocked politely. She might be getting cleaned up or otherwise having some time to herself.

She certainly seemed shocked to see them, tucked beneath her blankets with a book.

"Can we have a word?" Loki asked.

Her eyes were wide, afraid.

"I think I know what this is about. And I promise, nothing happened."

Thor and Loki looked at each other.

"Sam... Sam didn't say anything to you?" she asked.

"No. Ought he have?"

His tone reminded Thor suddenly of their father, firm but fair, wanting to get the full story before making judgments. He recalled vividly being accused of starting a fight with a younger boy and being terrified of the his punishment, even though it was only having to stammer his way through apologies he didn't mean and go to bed without supper.

He also remembered how he had never revealed to his parents that although he had thrown the first punch, it had been in response to his victim teasing Loki for his skinny limbs and pale skin.

He wondered where that boy was now. The family had moved away soon after that incident. Probably gone to war and died like all the rest of them.

Lewis was certainly stammering with only a fraction more grace than his 14-year-old self had done.

"Well, no reason. As I said, nothing happened, but... Well, I was going out to empty my pot in the night last week, if you must know, and as I was coming back, I passed Sam's room and I heard him cry out and I wanted to make sure he was not injured and, well, no, but he was in need of comforting and so... So I spent the night in his bed. But no sex. He just needed to know he wasn't alone, that's all. It's hardly against the law."

Her cheeks had gone a highly attractive sort of cherry colour, her eyes down, refusing to look at them.

"Darcy," Loki said, somehow seeming to verbalise an eye-roll. "It's not that. I couldn't care less about what you do in your free time. Listen, I'm going to be needing two of the lower rooms pressed into service. I need you to move up to Clint's old room."

"Opposite yours?"

"Is that alright? Since you're permanent here. Stability is key."

She smiled, with relief and mischief it seemed.

"Well, as long as you two don't keep me up all night with your sinful ways..."

Loki laughed, with just a hint of edge to it.

"Clint had a two-person bed, like yours, didn't he?" she said thoughtfully.

"What of it?"

"Do you... Do you suppose I could ask Sam to... move upstairs with me?"

"If you like. That's between the two of you though."

Thor felt like he could feel Loki's thread of thought as he considered how useful it would be to have Sam's room freed up without any fuss...

"Do you think he will?" he asked as they climbed the stairs to their own bed, desperate for any way to distract them both from the nightmarish evening they had experienced.

And it felt like a nightmare. Like his nightmares. Like he would wake up at any moment and such awful things would not have happened. Loki would tell him that he'd been saying strange things in his sleep again.

"Why wouldn't he? Darcy's a nice girl. Cuddly, if you want someone to cuddle with."

"And do you think they'll... You know... Develop?"

Loki laughed at his attempted delicacy.

"Stranger things have. You and I, for instance."

They couldn't distract themselves for long. Once the candle was blown out, Thor found Loki clinging to him in the darkness.

It felt awful that all he could do in response was cling back.


	63. Chapter 63

He wanted to sleep for days, forever. Asleep, he wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of the night before. Instead he was woken by Lewis dragging all her belongings upstairs using a blanket like a bag.

"She's back," she announced, slightly out of breath. "The woman. Nebula."

Loki's eyes were frantic as he dressed, pulling his hair back a little too tightly.

"You don't have to come," he said as Thor hauled himself out of bed.

"Yes, I do. This concerns all of us."

Nebula had changed overnight it seemed. Gone were the tight buttons in favour of a more relaxed fashion. Had she bought that dress today? Or had she had it in her wardrobe, carefully pressed, waiting for her triumph?

She was tired and stressed though. Her eyes were shadowed with lack of sleep, her lips thin. Perhaps she was not as unaffected as she was trying to appear.

"Are my rooms ready?"

"Give us at least a little time!" Loki said, forced joviality in his voice. "We have one nearly prepared but surely you would not ask us to evict paying guests."

She watched him carefully and Thor found himself trying hard to fade into the background. He couldn't help feeling that if he opened his mouth, he'd probably cause more harm than help. He couldn't risk that.

"I need them by Friday."

"Are you going to tell us why?"

"The less you know, the less risk to you."

Loki nodded. He didn't exactly seem convinced, but he was willing to put up with it. Or forced to anyway.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then she left. Loki's guard finally dropped, sighing and leaning heavily on the table.

"We'll get through this," he said, almost to himself. "It will become normal. It will be fine. And when the time is right, we'll leave and never look back."

Thor went to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, trying to be a grounding force. He could feel Loki trembling and then the deep breath as he steeled himself.

"I need to talk to Sam about his room," he said, easing Thor back. "You can probably clean Darcy's old room now. Some of thise old make-up stains are practically historic. Long overdue for clearing."

They were both tense for the rest of the week. Sam moved upstairs, but insisted on having his own space, sleeping on a sort of cot bed on the floor. Apparently it made him more comfortable.

The first men arrived on schedule on the Friday, large bags with them. Gone before dinner the next morning. Quiet, furtive. Moving on quickly.

"Couriers," Loki said. "I used to be one of them. She's using us as a halfway house. A place where people come and go frequently without comment. No one will notice them and she gets use of the rooms for free."

It made sense. And it could have been worse than just quiet, fleeting guests. He didn't like to think of what they were carrying but it was easier somehow to pretend it wasn't happening. To keep quiet. To stay out of it.

Years went by almost without him noticing. And Loki was right. It became normal.

By the time five years had passed, a lot of things had become normal.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *adds 'Period-Typical Racism' tag*
> 
> *sighs*

_September, 1929_

The crowd were stamping their feet, hollering at the top of their lungs. Loki looked wolfish in the dark, the glow of the lights making his eyes shine. Sam had played the introduction three times and had given up, placing his saxophone carefully back into its velvet-lined case.

"You are terrible," Thor murmured.

"That's why you love me."

Partially. But as he watched Loki sweep out onto the stage, his body so slender and beautiful, his confidence so alluring, knowing every person in that room wanted him, wanted to be in Thor's place but weren't allowed to be, he knew there were plenty of other reasons too. Reasons the audience would never see but would never know they missed.

And then getting to walk out there in total control of the situation... It thrilled him now. It had been difficult at first, but he grew to love it. A game they played, making the crowd believe. Different to how they were in private. But the passion was real. He didn't have to pretend as far as that was concerned.

Things had improved, to an extent. The Mark was stable, the war repayments had a set schedule again. They'd be long dead of old age by the time it was done, but still. Their crowds were more prosperous. Crime rates were falling so Nebula had decided to invest in more legitimate businesses, standing proud as a good businesswoman. It felt safer. It felt better.

But of course that wasn't true of everything.

He swept Loki's hair to the side, kissing his neck, getting a moan for it. He found it easier not to look at the crowd at first. All those eyes could unnerve him, make him forget which position they had agreed upon. He didn't like that much either, but over the years, Loki had managed to convince him that it was better to choose in advance according to viewing angles and to ensure variety.

Tonight they'd be sitting up, Loki in his lap, legs splayed wide so everyone could see... well, everything. Thor didn't quite understand it. He always found Loki's face far more interesting to look at than anything else.

He heard the first shout early that night. They'd started becoming more frequent these days.

"Do it already! Fuck him."

Thor's head whipped towards the voice and Loki calmly turned him back with one finger. He felt a policy of ignoring these troublemakers was best, not rising to it. Thor on the other hand wanted to throw them out with no refunds.

He'd noticed it months ago. People coming to the show exclusively to watch them was not unusual, but this was different. People spoke to him on the door as if he was part of some group he didn't understand.

"It's very viseral, what you do," one had said. "But I understand the metaphor completely."

"Metaphor?" Thor had asked.

"The dominance of the Aryan ideal. In this case, yourself."

It had troubled Thor deeply, unsure what it even meant. He did not keep up with the news as much as Loki did. And when he mentioned it at dinner the next morning in passing, Lewis had dropped her cutlery in alarm.

"It's because I look like me and you look like you," Loki had said, irritably stabbing at an underdone potato. "They think it's a power and control thing."

Thor had frowned, more confused than ever.

"But it is. You're in control. No matter what it might look like on the outside, you have all the power. You know that."

And for some reason that had made Loki laugh and laugh.

"I do hope you didn't tell them that, Thor. You'll be invited along to their meetings next."

Since then, he'd noticed it more and more. Men who wanted to see rougher and rougher acts, wanted something closer to what Ronan might have done. And what horror it was to suddenly have that face in his nightmares again after so many years.

In response, Thor was determined to move away from any form of brutality. He focussed on caresses and care and kisses. Yes, part of his possessive streak still shone through, but only because Loki was precious. A jewel. And his to please.

He ran a hand down the length of Loki's body, teasing the underside of his cock with his fingertips. Another memory of another man flashed unbidden to his mind, someone asking about their ancestry, for after all Loki had the look but not the cock...

They would not poison this. He wouldn't let them He nudged Loki's feet apart gently and stroked his back, the long line of it like warm marble beneath his hand. Loki let out an interested sound, as though he was pleasantly surprised by this development.

Thor moved back and settled himself onto the chaise, clicking his tongue just to make Loki roll his eyes, laugh and then obediently climb into his lap, hooking his legs around the outside of Thor's thighs.

There was a scraping sound as chairs moved, members of the crowd trying for a better look as Thor nosed his way from the junction of Loki's shoulder to his ear.

"Ready?"

"Mmm, I need it."

He always said that, rolling his hips forward to make it easier for Thor to line up and ease him down, sighing happily as he began to move, moaning openly.

They might have been in a bubble for all Thor knew. There was just him and Loki. He didn't to think about the look of things or the sound of them. Loki handled all that and made it happen without it seeming unnatural.

His every move and action was anticipated and almost expected by Loki, matched, like they were one creature moving in pursuit of its own pleasure.

Neither of them were expecting the glass that suddenly shattered across the stage floor.


	65. Chapter 65

Loki shrieked and pulled his feet up automatically, unbalancing Thor and making him tip backwards onto the seat, which at least distracted him from the pain that motion had caused from unexpected movement.

"Sam!" Thor bellowed, helping Loki off him.

He saw the movement out in the crowd, Sam moving with quick purpose to a man in a dark shirt. There was a scuffle, a punch thrown that Sam easily evaded, snatching the errant hand from the air and twisting the man's arm behind him.

The sound of yelling and curses and worse floated towards Thor as he rubbed Loki's back.

"Are you alright?"

Loki nodded, his eyes fixed on the door, waiting until Sam came back, wiping his hands on his shirt. And then he laughed and smiled, trying to bring the crowd's attention back to the stage.

"Don't worry, darlings," he purred. "We shan't let one thug spoil our fun."

He might appear unshaken, but Thor could tell differently. He wanted to hold him close, to comfort and soothe him, but instead Loki turned his back, reaching behind him to stroke Thor's cock back to full hardness where it had wilted. He was keen to get this over and done with, setting a fast pace immediately.

Thor grunted, trying to stay in the moment and push out what had just happened, trying to focus on the feeling of Loki's muscles moving beneath his hands, the sight of his undulating flesh...

Their climaxes felt perfunctory, Thor just wanting to be backstage and away from the crowd.

He was distantly aware of Sam inviting everyone to leave, Lewis suddenly appearing with a broom, sweeping the glass out of the way and giving them the dark robes they tended to wear after performances, along with their shoes, which they didn't. She didn't say anything. Just calmly cleaned up and left.

Loki picked his way carefully through the curtains and down towards the kitchen.

"Hey," Thor said softly. "Are you really alright?"

Loki sighed.

"Of course. People are stupid, what's new? We weren't progressing fast enough for his taste, that's all."

"Are you sure? I know there's... There's a lot of talk..."

"Fringes, Thor. A vocal minority. Nothing to worry about. It would take a fair shock to give them any kind of real political handhold, I should think. You won't recall the coup attempt half a decade ago, but it ended badly for everyone involved."

Thor wished he could have so much faith. He decided to make a conscious effort to make himself more aware of politics generally.

It was easier said than done. There seemed to be approximately a thousand parties, all arguing from not just different perspectives but along different lines entirely. The Social Democratic Party, the German Democratic Party, the German People's Party, the German _National_ People's Party, the Centre Party, the Communists, the Christian-National Peasants and Farmers, the National Socialist Workers, the Reich Party for Civil Rights and Deflation, the Agricultural League... It was baffling. Too many conflicting voices, too many similar names.

"It's really easy," Loki said when Thor complained of the complexities. "The Catholics want to save our souls, the Nationalists want to save our culture, the Socialists want to sort out classes and the National Socialists combine those two and come up with race. Each to their niche."

"Well, which do you vote for?"

Loki looked at him strangely.

"I don't bother. None of them have a niche for me. I don't care for class, and I'm not entirely convinced I even have a soul, certainly not these days."

Thor frowned.

"Doesn't that mean you're not taking any stand?"

"Nor are you, by that logic."

"Well, yes, but... But I'm ignorant of all this. I would just be picking a name at random. Besides, you like culture. Surely you should support the Nationalists?"

A hollow laugh.

"I like evolution and change in my culture. I feel less inclined to try to crystalise it or try to base my identity around some ancestral dream. I suppose I would vote for the SDP, but there's no real point. They're already the most popular party. They don't need me."

Thor wasn't entirely convinced by that argument, but Loki was at least aware. And he was probably right. It would take a large shock to topple the Reichstag.

He wasn't expecting the first one to come so soon after that conversation, or that it would happen on an unassuming Tuesday at the end of October.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For you history fans out there, the coup attempt Loki refers to is the [Beer Hall Putsch.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beer_Hall_Putsch) It didn't go well.


	66. Chapter 66

Of course, they didn't know just how much events in a stock exchange so far away would affect their little cabaret for a week or two. It started with Nebula arriving in the mid-morning. It had been months since they'd last seen her and the combination of unexpected arrival and panicked expression had a horrible sick feeling settling in the pit of Thor's stomach before she'd even opened her mouth.

"Have you read the news?" she asked, hurling a paper down onto the table.

Loki seized it, eyes flicking back and forth over the page.

"Banks in crisis," he murmured. "Wall Street crash. I heard. Any particular relevance, or are you just behind the times?"

She leant over him and stabbed a finger at the third paragraph down, her nail like an arrowhead.

"American banks calling in all overseas lending," she snapped. "In other words, the remaining mortgage on this building. And my house. And almost every other speck of property I own."

Thor's chest was tight suddenly, a hideous ache in his heart. What did that mean? Repossession? Eviction?

"How much is left on it?" he asked, wondering how stupid a question that was.

"A lot," Loki said, sounding numb.

Thor pressed his lips tightly together before he could be tempted to ask what they were going to do. That was an unhelpful question. One that would only upset Loki. Unanswerable at this stage. And Loki hated questions he couldn't answer.

"I'm ruined," Nebula said bitterly. "I might as well become one of your whores now. Everything's fucked. All of it."

Loki tapped his fingers on the desk.

"Not necessarily," he said. "Your house can't have much of a mortgage left. Surely your father must have paid off a lot of it. Give up as much of the rest as possible and secure it. You can have whatever this building sells for to help."

Thor couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Sell? Sell the theatre? But this was their home. It was everyone's home, theirs and Darcy's and Sam's and the others on and off. There was nothing else. What on earth did Loki think could come of this?

"And what's the catch for that?" Nebula asked. "You wouldn't sacrifice yourself for me. You're too smart for that."

"Let me set up shop in your spare rooms, as it were."

She raised an eyebrow as Thor's concern only heightened.

"You want me to make my home a brothel?"

"A business. It will be just like the old days. Of course, we would need to renegotiate terms..."

"And I suppose you'd want me to house you and your little band of creatures?"

"Well, not all of them. They'll understand. But myself and Thor, obviously. Our security man, Sam."

"Darcy Lewis," Thor said urgently. "She comes too."

Loki shot him a look but then nodded. Lewis hadn't been bringing in much money recently. She'd become anxious about even her regular clients, unwilling to entertain unknown quantities completely. The others would likely survive by tooth and nail, but evicting her would leave her destitute. There was a strange nervousness about her these days and Thor was not prepared to leave her behind.

"Consider it, at least," Loki urged. "We'll pay our way, in kind and with a share of my takings. Surely any income is better than none. And, of course, I would once again be in your debt."

Thor did not like this at all. The idea of going to live in the house where Loki had been a prisoner, where they had witnessed those murders...

But what choice did they have? That's what Loki would say. They couldn't afford to get rid of the mortgage in its entirety. That had never been the plan and he wasn't willing to pour their savings into such a fruitless effort, especially if the inflation level skyrocketed again. They couldn't afford it.

In fact, he hadn't pressed Loki for updates on their savings in a while. Things had been going well, so he hadn't needed to. But since Germany had all been rebuilt on the back of American loans, they were about to take a nationwide hit to infrastructure could only cause jobs to fall and prices to rise and once again set back their plans to leave.

Besides, the more he thought about it, the more guilt he felt about the idea of leaving everyone behind. Getting up one day and packing and going. Certainly, he was starting to wonder if they ought to take Lewis with them. She was practically family. He hadn't discussed with Loki, but he couldn't think of any objections but the expense.

The expense that was suddenly about to block even one of them getting across the ocean, let alone both, let alone three.

He wondered why Sam was still with them sometimes. Surely he could return to America if he wished. He was still a citizen. He could easily have gone home at any time. Maybe he likewise felt beholden to them, unwilling to walk out on them. Maybe this would finally give him the push that would lead to him leaving.

Then again, maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. This was a worst-case scenario, wasn't it? Maybe they were overreacting. Maybe it would blow over without touching them. Or maybe the worst that would happen would be a return to the atmosphere of five years ago. Strange hedonism and a cheerful kind of hopelessness.

He could only hope.


	67. Chapter 67

"We're going to have to tell them," Thor said a few nights later. "If they find out we were planning this for long, they'll eat us alive."

"We're hardly planning it as such," Loki mumbled back, cuddling into him. "We're just taking stock of the available options. Nebula might not take us up on the offer."

"And what will we do then?"

Loki sighed, his breath slightly misty in the autumn night.

"You worry too much, Thor."

"You don't worry enough."

"Fine, you want a plan? If Nebula doesn't want us, it seems to me we have two choices. Either we try to make it on the streets with the rest of them, or..."

"Or?"

"Or we go south and fling ourselves on Sif's mercy."

Sif... He hadn't even thought of her in years. Anything might have happened to her in the meantime. Maybe she was happy and married with children. Maybe she was ill. Maybe she was just scraping by like the rest of them. There was no way to know. It was all far too uncertain.

"I'm not sure..." he began, before thinking better of it. He wasn't sure. That was enough to be going on with.

Loki shuffled a little more, angling his face up but with his eyes still closed.

"If you want to, you can sound out Darcy and Sam," he said. "Who knows? Maybe they have plans of their own."

Thor hoped so. He very sincerely hoped so.

He wrapped his arms around Loki, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Your cabaret. All that you've built. I haven't even thought of what this might be doing to you."

Loki sighed gently.

"I'm alright," he said. "I knew this day would come."

"You predicted a crash?"

"I wish. No, I knew one day we would leave. I admit, I expected it to be a happier parting, but... Well, things can't be helped."

"I wish I could. Help them, I mean. Help you feel better."

"Sleep will help me feel better," Loki said, slightly pointedly. "But if you wanted to wake me with a little special attention, it wouldn't go unnoticed."

"I know just the thing."

He very much did. He knew exactly how to slip beneath the blankets without waking his brother, sliding down the bed to slip his clothing just far enough out of the way, using his mouth to wake Loki with gentle pleasure.

He always knew when Loki was awake, for he tended to peek in from above to watch. The cooler air was often good respite. But he liked the little half-asleep moans too. There was something about the complete lack of artifice in them, pleasure and then a little confusion as he began to wake and then almost smug as he realised someone was dedicating themselves to him.

A skill, Loki told him sometimes, to be so gentle and wake him so sweetly. A real skill.

He kissed Loki back into the blankets afterwards, going to rinse his mouth before crossing the hall to see Lewis and Sam. It would be easier to see them together in private after all.

He wasn't sure where Lewis had acquired her sleeping shirt from, but he found it very charming, a pale blue men's garment that somehow managed to swamp her and cling at the same time. She'd adapted well to sharing a room. Thor wasn't sure if there was anything more than friendship between her and Sam and didn't like to ask. And the separate beds suggested perhaps there wasn't.

Then again, he wouldn't put it past either of them to hide a relationship just to enjoy having a secret and pulling the wool over his and Loki's eyes.

"I need to talk to you," he began. "Both of you."

It was deeply unpleasant, two pairs of brown worried eyes watching him as he awkwardly sat on the chair by the dresser. It only made him more sure that this was the right decision though. Transparency was the best policy.

Lewis exhaled in a big, long breath after he'd explained about Nebula and their possible plans to live in her house.

"I thought you were going to throw us out," she said quietly.

"No!" Thor said, more vehemently than he meant to. "No, we... If we possibly can, we'll stick together. I'm determined we will."

"And if push comes to shove, what then?" Sam asked.

Thor looked away, reduced to a shrug.

"I don't know," he said. "I wish I knew, but I don't. And I wish I could offer you more than that."

"Well, you'll be alright," Lewis said brightly, getting out of bed. "You can always go back to Harlem."

The tension in the air was thick as she left the room, probably to go and make her morning coffee.

"There's nothing for me in Harlem," Sam said.

"Soon there might be nothing for you here," Thor said, hating himself for it. "Maybe you should consider it as an option."

"There's friends. That's something."

"You don't have friends there?"

"I do, but... Well, that was before. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back there. Certainly not by myself."

He sighed heavily, flopping down on his bed so hard that the whole frame rattled.

"I hope your associate can house us," he said. "Otherwise..."

He let the thought hang in the air as Thor awkwardly took his leave.


	68. Chapter 68

At first, it seemed they might weather the crash. The first wave of unemployment made people more and more keen to distract themselves. They wanted hedonism and alcohol and the cabaret provided both.

But it wasn't enough. The interest on the mortgage had skyrocketed as predicted. They couldn't keep up. And nor could most of their customers, it seemed.

Eventually they had to choose between leaving voluntarily and eviction. No choice at all really.

Loki wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as he thought he was. Thor spotted his frowns and desperately tried to smooth them away. He saw him pinching the bridge of his nose, wringing his hands, heard the sighs.

He finally broke down in tears on stage when he had to announce their imminent closure. He'd told the performers beforehand at Thor's insistence. It was too unfair to spring it on them as well.

There was protesting. There was yelling, people insisting this was all they had left, their only pleasure. Loki wiped his eyes irritably.

"We'll find somewhere new," he said. "Keep your ears to the ground."

Thor saw everyone out, accepting their condolences with as much grace as he could muster and racing backstage as soon as possible.

Sam was dealing with the money. Unusual. Worrying.

"He's in the Nest," he said immediately as Thor came in, before he could even ask.

The Nest... It was barely recognisable these days. They'd changed it over the years, as the Magpie persona became less important. The jewellery had gone, sold off. The furniture too, most of it, leaving the bed and a throne-like chair for clients.

It had been so long since he'd seen Loki weeping like this. And there was nothing he could do to make it better.

He could be cried on though. Surely that was something. He lay down gingerly on the other half of the bed, wrapping an arm around him and immediately finding himself with Loki in his arms, sobbing.

"I worked so hard..."

"I know."

"And now..."

Now thanks to people they'd never met lending money they didn't have on the other side of the ocean, they'd lost everything. He held Loki tighter, stroking his back.

Part of him wanted to try to say something, but he knew nothing would help. All he could do was try to be a grounding force. Something stable. That's what they needed. Something stable.

After a long while, Loki's breathing eased. Thor gave him a last squeeze.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

"I suppose so. But I don't think I'll sleep much."

Another night, Thor would have offered sex, try to cheer him up or at least distract him. But he didn't want to tangle their relationship up in this.

The next day, they packed what was left of their things and moved across to Nebula's house. She'd put them up in the attic, what would have been servants' quarters half a century previously. Loki seemed to find it darkly humorous.

"Was this where they kept you?" Thor asked.

"What do you think?"

He took that as a yes.

And then, of course, there was Gamora...

"I don't want this happening in the house," she said as Loki tried to negotiate with her sister.

"We need all the income we can get at the moment," Nebula said. "This will bring in cash. If you enjoy having a roof over your head..."

"And when we get raided, what then? We're living on borrowed time."

"We always have been! Even when Father was alive..."

"And whose fault is it that he's dead?"

Thor was beginning to think this might have been a very bad idea.

The remains of the meagre staff had been dismissed, meaning they were in charge of their own meals, laundry, everything. It was similar to the cabaret and yet not similar at all. Not least because they had to use the bed they slept in for other activities too. Fewer clients, lower prices, Sam showing them up with pained eyes. Lewis had made herself into a sort of assistant to Nebula, following her around and doing little odd jobs for her.

He didn't trust the men Nebula seemed to have meetings and dealings with. They did not seem to be suffering. They seemed to be almost thriving. He was suspicious.

And the clients they dealt with were suddenly even more of a worry.

"How much for the former Magpie alone? Like it was in the old days?"

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was. Thor looked at Loki and felt his heart sink, seeing him forcing a smile.

"No," he tried. "We would need to..."

"It's alright, brother."

No, no, no... Not this. Loki was his. Loki was safe with him and no one else. He didn't want this to happen, he couldn't bear it.

"His mouth only," he insisted.

The man laughed.

"Oh, I quite understand. Don't worry. I'll give him back in one piece."

Loki squeezed his hand, giving him wide, pleading eyes. Asking him not to make a fuss. Asking him to turn away, pretend it wasn't happening.

He certainly couldn't bring himself to sit outside and hear it. Instead he went downstairs and forced himself to resist the urge to rush back up and reclaim Loki for himself.

This felt hideously like a first step. A retrograde step.

How long now before Loki allowed himself back to how things were before?


	69. Chapter 69

Loki came downstairs with bruising around his mouth, his lips swollen a little. He sighed when he spotted Thor's frown. He'd found an armchair and was busy staring at nothing, fuming over the false giggles he'd heard as Loki had shown the man out. They used to giggle together afterwards, making fun more often than not, so different to the pretend playfulness that Loki forced out.

He though he'd never hear that sound again and was glad of it.

"Don't sulk. You can hardly be surprised by my profession now."

"He didn't want your mouth."

Loki huffed and folded his arms, looking away. Sore and annoyed but Thor couldn't let it lie so, it seemed, neither would Loki.

"No. He wanted my arse. He would have paid double for the privilege, maybe more. I should have taken him up on it, really. You know I should."

"I don't... I don't want you to."

"Nor do I, but we don't have a choice. We need to take what we can get. We aren't living here out of the goodness of Nebula's heart, we're here based on what use we are to her. The amount of money I make for her is part of that."

How many years had it been? Four or so since another man had touched Loki that way. And even though he knew Loki was right, the very thought made Thor's heart ache.

"How would you feel if I was doing it?" he asked, trying to make him at least see why it hurt. "If it was me letting other men touch me like that?"

"That's different. You wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't what?"

Loki winced even before he spoke.

"You wouldn't enjoy it."

It was like a physical blow to the chest.

"And you do? Am I... Am I not enough for you?"

Loki sighed again, rubbing at his mouth as he headed for the door.

"I'm not having this argument," he said. "Not now."

"I am. I want to know."

He followed Loki out of the room, down the hallway.

"Thor..."

"No. Talk to me."

He grabbed Loki by the wrist and pinned him against the wall, trying to force him to look at him. Loki stared at his chest, tears sparkling in his eyes.

"If I tell you I'm happy with you, will you even believe me?" he asked. "Or will we end up back in that fucking cycle where you just think I'm telling you what you want to hear? I had to learn to enjoy it, to enjoy multiple partners. I don't know if that was always part of me or not, I don't know, I can't remember. But for so long now, I haven't really done that. I've had you. And that is different. Better. So much better. I wouldn't do this unless I truly believed it was for the benefit of all of us. And if you don't believe that then I don't know how I can convince you."

Thor wondered if he was a fool as he pulled Loki into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just..."

"You love me and that makes you a big, jealous idiot."

Thor chuckled, kissing the side of his head.

"I do love you."

"I know. But I need to do this. I need to let them buy me fully. We're the only ones bringing in money out of the four of us and who knows how long that will last? But it's temporary. Think on that. Once the economy bounces back, we can save again and leave. And then you'll have me all to yourself forever."

"And you'll have me."

"Exactly."

Thor took his face in both hands and pulled him into a kiss, pretending he couldn't still taste the client on his lips.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. Sorry that I have to do this. Sorry that you have to put up with it."

"Just... Just be careful. Don't let them hurt you. Otherwise I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Ooh... My big, strong brother. Protecting my virtue as usual."

Thor was just walking him back against the wall for some more heavy-duty kissing when there was a polite cough behind them.

"I don't think you should do that down here," Lewis said. "Miss Nebula has meetings."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll have seen worse," Loki said.

She shook her head rapidly.

"No, I don't think they would. Some of them refuse to touch anything Sam has touched. I doubt that two men kissing in the hallway would go down well, even without your unique relationship. Excuse me."

She hurried away, clearly on some kind of errand. It was good that she was busy, but she'd become a little reserved, Thor felt. So much sadder than that flamboyant young woman Thor had met on the street all those years ago. Like she was uncomfortable in her very skin.

"Do you think she's alright?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Loki said, smoothing his hair where Thor's fingers had tousled it. "She and Sam went to the butcher to pick up something for dinner a few nights ago and, well, people were very cruel to them. Must be difficult to have a safe feeling taken away. And she's embarrassed that she's not German."

Thor blinked at him.

"But... But she was born in Berlin. She told me. And her parents. She's lived here all her life."

"Ah, but she's Jewish too."

"And so what?"

Loki laughed at him.

"Oh, Thor. You really don't listen to the chatter on the street, do you?"

"Well, if they're saying a Berlin born girl isn't German, I'd say I'm right not to. That's stupid. What else would she be?"

Loki shrugged.

"It's not like she really practises these days," he said. "Other than avoiding bacon and sometimes a quick prayer, I don't think it's a big part of her life. Still, difficult to have your identity challenged, I should think."

Thor looked towards the door, as if her pain might have left a visible trace. So many problems. That was the real reason he didn't listen to the outside world too much. If he did, it seemed like he'd be overwhelmed by them.

And by the fact that there seemed to be nothing he could do about any of it.


	70. Chapter 70

He felt like a caged animal, prowling around the place while Loki took clients for sessions that he was decidedly not invited to. More and more of them as time went on and each one like a twist of a thorn in his heart. Not enough to kill him, but enough to sting all the same.

"Is that making you feel better?" Sam asked as he passed him in the hall for about the sixth time.

He was sweeping, apparently just for something worth doing, as was his usual way. Thor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No," he admitted. "But I need something to stop my mind from whirling too much and I don't know what else to occupy myself with other than counting my steps. Lewis doesn't like me cleaning too much. Apparently I don't do it right and I miss spots here and there."

Sam shrugged, swirling his brush around, unconsciously pointing out how he was trusted with such a task.

"I know what you mean. It's hard to get used to it. I tried taking my sax out on the street to play for spare change and, well, I think we're in the wrong neighbourhood for it. It's always tough to adapt, even if we are within walking distance of the cabaret. This is a new situation for all of us and it's difficult."

"You're very pragmatic."

"I've had to be over the years."

Thor hesitated. He had never asked about Sam's past as a matter of courtesy but he couldn't deny being curious. There had been quite a gap between the end of the war and his return to Germany and Thor couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the interim. Had he had a wife? Family? If so, what had happened to them? Was that why he said he had nothing to go back for?

"Anyway, you need distraction. If you're determined to pace, at least go outside for a walk. Take the air a little. You hardly ever go out."

That was true enough. He'd become rather set in his ways, so used to only going out after shows had finished or into the yard to do laundry that he practically never left the house. Maybe Sam was right. A little winter sunshine might do him good.

Christmas and New Year had been and gone without fanfare in their little family, none of them able to summon up much enthusiasm for the season. Loki had been too worried to even consider sitting to watch the snow fall. But now at the beginning of February, the air was crisp and refreshing, filling his lungs with sharpness as he explored the neighbouring streets. Several of the big, old houses were boarded up, a few showing signs of break ins, probably people just looking for shelter. It made sense to use empty buildings, Thor thought.

He saw enough destitute people on his wanderings to be sure that every room would be occupied. If he'd had money, he might have given them something, but Nebula and Loki handled all of that, so he didn't carry even small coins. They reminded him of himself not so very long ago, huddled around small fires.

How long had it been, in fact? If he had not found Loki, had not had a home, would he still be one of these downtrodden souls? Or would he have frozen or starved years ago, all alone?

The acid smoke of whatever refuse they were burning made him cough, almost bumping into a young boy handing out fliers, an advertisement for a political meeting. He took one reflexively, leaning on a wall to read it.

He had to admit, it made sense, the promises made. Investments in infrastructure, producing new jobs through that, improving the economy by building new roads and rail links up and down the country. He could quite understand the appeal. Especially for someone unemployed or who was suffering from the effects of the crash and desperate for any hope at all. It made sense to vote for the people who promised this renewed future.

And as such, he couldn't quite believe what Loki said was completely true. The people supported this, the promise to restart the economy. They did not support cruelty towards people like Lewis or any kind of ridiculous notions of denying citizenship to innocent people who had lived here all their days. They didn't hate her or people like her. Not really.

Surely not really.

But then again, during the war he had hated the people he was fighting against, hadn't he? When he'd signed up, he'd done so because he felt it was a good career move and then during training he had learned to hate the French and the Russians and the British and everyone else they'd been fighting back in 1915. Had he any real reason to hate them? Well, they were at war. That was something. But overall, now he really thought about it, no. All these years on, he didn't even understand what had caused the war or what was supposed to have separated different nationalities so deeply.

So if these people were somehow being encouraged to hate or convinced of some kind of inherent difference between them and their neighbours... Well, it would be hypocritical of him to fault them for it as such. He'd done just the same thing and learned the hard way that nothing good could come of it.

So for all he felt Loki was probably exaggerating about ill feeling on the streets, it still worried him. He'd seen what stirring up discontent could do and avoiding it if at all possible could only be a good thing.

Surely enough people remembered the last war to know that was true.

On his way back to the house, he tossed the leaflet into one of the fires as he passed. He wasn't comfortable bringing it too close to Lewis. She had enough to worry about without having doubts about him as well.

And maybe he ought to ask her perspective of it, rather than merely speculating.


	71. Chapter 71

He found he couldn't help worrying about Lewis. Ever since Loki had pointed it out, he noticed how she was shrinking.

Nebula tended to stay fairly separate from them, which he was glad enough of at mealtimes at least, but it meant as a result that he hardly saw Lewis. She stayed close to her new benefactor, attending to her every whim. He missed her. Decided to start seeking out her company, especially when he needed distracting from Loki's private sessions. Maybe they both needed distracting.

If he couldn't find her, he assumed she was with Nebula, doing secretarial duties or fetching and carrying. But sometimes he could find her about the house, cleaning or laundering or doing other little bits of work.

"How are you?" he'd ask, the very question sounding heavy on his tongue. Like the little words were weighed down with more meaning than they were ever meant to carry.

And sometimes she would tell him. Not always. Usually she'd barely look up from her polishing or dusting as she told him she was fine. But sometimes she'd talk about how uncomfortable she'd been that day spotting some graffiti or worse, a poster. Posters seemed more legitimate, she felt, more organised. More publicly accepted.

"Has anyone... said anything to you?"

"No. But it's more than that. It's a feeling in the air. I can't explain it. It's a sense that I'm not welcome on certain streets. It's the way people look at me, ways I'm not sure if I'm imagining or not. And I feel that if I go anywhere with Sam, that draws attention to me and so I avoid it and then I get worried that he thinks he's done something to upset me and..."

"I'm sure he understands."

"Well, that's just it, isn't it? It's normal for him to be refused entry or to have awful things yelled at him on the street and it just makes me sick to think about. I mean, it's always been there to an extent. The other children would make comments and so on and of course there were always a few bad incidents in the news but... But it's getting worse. It's becoming more widespread or at least it feels like it is. And I'm scared that I'll keep getting used to it and then it will feel normal and I..."

How Thor's heart ached for her, pulling her into what he hoped was a comforting embrace. Her hair smelled of the wax she used on the furniture, a million miles away from the sour perfume she used to wear.

"Don't ever get used to it," he urged. "You know your worth and no one can take that from you."

"How can I know it when I keep hiding who I am? When I pretend to be different?"

He sighed. He could see her point. Loki was right when he said she didn't practise her faith, but there was a big difference between that and renouncing her parents and grandparents, of behaving as though she was ashamed of them just because of other people's prejudice.

"You need to keep yourself safe," he tried. "That's not your fault. It's not. You know who you are, that's what matters."

She sniffed but didn't say anything.

"Listen," he said carefully. "Me and Loki, we're... We've been trying to save these past few years. Trying to get enough money to go somewhere else. Far away. Probably over to America with Sam. We'd like you to come with us. We want you to."

Red-rimmed eyes met his as she pulled back, stunned.

"When?" she asked.

"Not imminently. But hopefully soon. The crash has set us back a little, but we'll get there."

"And what will you do?"

What would they do? He didn't know.

"We'll find jobs, I expect. Start a new life, far away from here and all of this. Somewhere no one knows us and we can be free and safe."

She pressed her lips together and looked away.

"I've never been out of Berlin," she said, scraping some grime out from under her fingernails. "And I've never had a job. Not a proper one. After my mother passed... Well, I was a year or two too old for the orphanage. So I made it on my own. Had to, really."

"You... Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"No. I was the only one who made it past five years old. And now I think I might be the only one of my family left. And I don't think... I don't think I can leave here. It's all I know."

Thor took her hand urgently. This was important.

"You are our family," he said. "You know us. Together we can make a new home."

She giggled at him, a little forced.

"Well, I've seen how you treat your family, and while I'm not refusing your advances as such, I know Loki's the jealous type..."

"Lewis," he said, very seriously. "Darcy, please."

She sighed.

"I'll think about it," she said. "I'm not saying no. But I'm not saying yes either."

It seemed that was the best answer he could hope for.

At least at this stage.


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, really busy today, I'll respond to yesterday's comments a little later. Chapter also badly edited, please yell out typos. Thank you xx

He found Loki asleep, all curled in on himself. Peaceful. He almost didn't want to wake him for dinner.

That quickly turned to concern when Loki flinched away from his touch with a sharp grunt before opening his eyes.

"Oh, it's you."

Thor frowned, watching the way he winced as he rolled over.

"You're hurt."

Loki groaned.

"I'm not hurt, I'm just... I'm not as flexible as I used to be and I pulled a muscle or five. I'm fine. Probably not even bruised."

"Probably?"

Loki grumbled as he hauled himself to his feet, turning back and forth, displaying scratch marks on his hips that Thor couldn't help but reach out for.

"Is scarring better than bruising?"

A huff as Loki folded his arms.

"Because you've never left so much as a pinprick mark on me."

"That's different."

"Why? Because you love me, as you're so determined to remind me?"

"No, but because I trust you to say no to me if I ever do anything too..."

"But you don't trust me to say no to anyone else."

This was stupid. Loki was tired and aching and he didn't need this kind of argument. Neither of them did. Nothing would come of it.

"I worry about you, that's all."

Loki scoffed as he pulled on some clothes.

"Yes, I know, but I wish you wouldn't. I hate seeing you frown at me like that. You remind me of Father appraising skinned knees."

That wasn't fair. Father was a great believer in care and attention and therefore had little sympathy for injuries inflicted by undone shoe laces or running in the rain. This was not Loki's fault and so he would not stand by while anyone hurt him, even accidentally.

"I need to stretch more, that's all," Loki said. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"You're not even thirty."

"Which, if your mathematical studies have not deserted you, you will concede is older than I was when taking clients at twenty-four."

Thor wasn't in the mood to brood over the knowledge that he had had five years as the only man who Loki took to his bed shattered by circumstance and instead satisfied himself with letting Loki win the discussion, pulling him close.

"I'm an old man next to you," he said. "No wonder they don't want me there, aging up the place."

"Mmm, no, they just know you're better at it than they are. Don't want you showing them up."

A blatant appeal to his ego, but Thor allowed it, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Come on," he said. "Sam will have already started dinner."

He had indeed, onion chopped and sizzling in a little frying pan, potatoes boiling away.

"Lewis isn't sure she wants to come with us when we leave," Thor said to them as they sat down at what had once been the servants' table.

Sam frowned.

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"She says Berlin is all she knows and she's not sure if she can leave that."

"We need a plan then," Loki said. "We need to actually research and decide where exactly we plan to go, how to get there and what we're going to do about work. We've been too vague up till now."

"Alright," Sam said. "So what's your plan been up till now?"

Thor looked at Loki. What had their plan been?

"I... I don't think we really had one," he said.

"Mm, no," Loki said, swallowing. "Our plan did not take into account a sudden market crash. We were going to run the cabaret until we could afford to emigrate."

"Where to?"

"How's Harlem at this time of year?"

Sam chuckled.

"Cold," he said. "Besides, you two would stick out like a clumsy carpenter's thumbs."

"Still, it's the land of opportunity, isn't it?"

"Depends. Right now, I'm not so sure. News from back home is all kinds of bad. No work for anyone, even the highly skilled.

Thor felt the uneasiness settle in his stomach. They had no skills, just some half-remembered farming. Add in the language barrier...

"You must know people there," Loki said pointedly.

"Yeah. But I'm not sure if they could really help. Probably struggling enough themselves as it is. But... Well..."

"Hmm?"

He sighed.

"Look, I'll ask, alright? I'll write and ask what the prospects are. But don't blame me if I end up bearing bad news."

Hope was a dangerous thing. Thor knew that.

And yet, he couldn't resist entertaining it a little.


	73. Chapter 73

"You've brightened up," Loki said, slipping into bed.

Thor practically lunged for him, wanting him warm and safe in his arms.

"I feel like we're finally heading in the right direction. We get a plan, a real plan, and then we can convince Lewis to go with us and everything will work out."

Loki hummed at him.

"Well, I'm glad you're confident. I'd prefer it to be sooner rather than later. I can't... I can't keep doing this line of work. It... It doesn't feel the same as it used to."

"What doesn't?"

"The sex. And it's your fault."

"Mine?!"

"Mm-hm. It used to be enough for me to just feel wanted, lusted after. But I've grown used to feeling adored."

Thor tilted his face up for kisses, hands beginning to roam down and down, slipping between Loki's cheeks...

He hissed in pain.

"No, not tonight. I'm too tender."

Thor frowned lightly.

"Let me see."

Loki didn't protest as he turned on their lamp and slid down the bed, pushing his legs apart to look at the pink furl of muscle concealed down there. Too pink. Almost red and a little swollen.

"Don't be cross with me," Loki murmured. "It's not that bad. I'll live."

"I know. I was just wondering if my tongue might help."

He could see Loki blushing slightly as he admitted that yes, maybe it would. A beautiful sight, but Thor spared him any teasing or embarrassment, extinguishing the light before taking his place between those thighs.

And this attention did embarrass Loki. Thor remembered the first time he'd done it, when Loki was leaking with his spend but yet to climax himself and he'd looked down and wondered if kissing would feel good there. How Loki had been surprised and shocked and then moaned out, unable to hold back... Thor loved to give him something no one else ever had. Even if Loki always got flustered at how much he liked it, usually too mortified to ask for it. So confident in so many things and this made him a blushing, stammering novice.

Thor didn't want to tease, but he did want to be gentle. He ran his tongue up in a long stripe, feeling the heat of aching flesh beneath him, trying to be extra careful there.

And as usual, Loki's reaction spurred him on.

"Mmm... Ah... Oh, you know how to treat me."

Yes, he did. Gently and lovingly unless Loki asked to be fucked hard. For now, soft laps of tongue, not pressing in. Just soothing him with pleasure, hopefully.

"Your mouth, Thor, fuck..."

"Tell me when you want me to suck your cock."

A moan for that as well. This would be as close to torture as they'd get, making Loki choose between continued, slow pleasure or getting to spill in his brother's mouth, each sounding tempting but requiring giving up the other.

"Play fair..."

"Never."

To emphasise his point, he licked all the way up from Loki's entrance all along the underside of his cock, even giving the head a little suck before he ducked back down.

"You're so cruel. Mmm, keep going."

Gladly. Thor found himself in a very calm place when he did this, surrounded by Loki on all sides, like he could melt into him almost. His tongue found a comfortable rhythm, not too fast and not too slow, just steady. Which was more than could be said for Loki's breathing as it rapidly sped up, becoming gasps.

"Thor, my... Please..."

He assumed he knew what that garbled request meant, pulling himself slightly higher and taking Loki's cock into his mouth.

How vastly he had improved here, even if he did say so himself. He still did not take Loki into his throat, and was unable to if he tried, but he had learned all the ways Loki liked this best, all the ways to tease and play.

Not that Loki wanted to play as such if the fingers suddenly tangled in his hair were any indication. No, Loki was almost ready to burst, his hips rolling helplessly, cock rubbing against Thor's tongue as he tried to keep up a steady suction.

It didn't take long for that familiar bitter taste to spread through his mouth. But he'd grown used to that. Even come to almost like it.

Loki welcomed him into open arms, kissing him mercilessly as one hand slipped between them to find Thor's cock, stroking it quickly.

His moans muffled against Loki's lips, Thor let himself be dragged away by sensation. The feel of Loki's fingers tight around him, the way his blood seemed to sing in his veins, the feeling of something building and building until finally he spilled, gasping for breath.

Loki casually wiped his hand on Thor's thigh, ensuring he'd have to wash carefully the next day, and nuzzled into his arms.

"You see? That's what I meant."

"Hmm?"

"You got me used to that. To having my pleasure be at the forefront of your mind, just as yours is at the head of mine. Clients like to see it, but really they only care if I come to satisfy their own egos. It's sex, but it's not..."

"Not what?"

Loki kissed him gently and rolled over in his grasp, using his arm as an extra blanket.

"Goodnight, Thor."


	74. Chapter 74

The thought kept rolling around in Thor's head. What had Loki almost said? Could it be what he thought? Yes, Loki might just mean that he had felt the loss of being loved by his sexual partner but had he almost admitted that the feeling was mutual?

It was like clouds parting suddenly, a bright, warming ray of sunshine soaking into his bones at even the thought that Loki might feel the same way he did. And yet, he had turned away. He didn't want to declare his feelings. Perhaps he was unsure. Or embarrassed.

Thor had long wondered if Loki even believed in love. He believed that Thor cared about him and cared deeply and called that feeling love, but he seemed reluctant to put much stock in that sometimes. Or he spoke of how he didn't know what it was like to be in love so how was he supposed to know if he was or not? And Thor would try to talk about the warm feeling he had when Loki was with him or how easy it was to be open with him and Loki would shrug and say it did not seem so special to him. After all, they were brothers, a degree of openness could be expected, could it not? That had nothing to do with romance.

And as for 'warm feelings', Loki firmly believed those to be merely the call of flesh. Not even related to the heart, but solely to the body.

Though he didn't like to argue, Thor respectfully disagreed. Yes, he desired Loki and yes, he enjoyed being able to physically demonstrate his feelings, but he enjoyed intimacy in all forms, however small. Merely sharing a bed, sharing warmth in the night, was indescribably pleasant to him. He felt safe there. As though all the terrible things in the world were outside but couldn't get in to bother them as they lay together.

He hadn't realised just how much he wanted Loki to love him. He had grown used to the imbalance. That he was very open about his emotions and Loki equally open about not returning them in the same way. Could he have fallen in love over the years? Had they needed this problem to arise for him to realise it?

Or was this just wishful thinking on his part and nothing more? Perhaps Loki had merely missed easy affection and care and did not feel any deeper emotions than that. Perhaps nothing had changed.

He folded himself around Loki's body, holding him carefully and inhaling the smell of him. Loki used to laugh at him for such actions. Tease him for being like a dog, wanting the scent of its master in its nostrils. But Thor liked it. Loki was home, his very being so achingly familiar and he wanted to have that all around him in the night. His nightmares had receded a little over the years, only bothering him occasionally, and he put it down to this ritual of reminding each of his senses exactly where he was and who he was with before sleeping.

They generally rolled apart in the night, but that was alright. He enjoyed waking up and finding Loki still there, wrapping his arms around him while he was still all soft and peaceful from sleep. Better still was when Loki woke first and Thor would wake to find himself entwined with his limbs, an arm around his chest and usually a leg hooked over his hip as well.

And as for other morning activities...

Loki loved to be woken with pleasure, his eyes fluttering as he moaned, rising from pleasant dreams. They generally would mention it the night before, but sometimes Thor was spontaneous, slipping under the blankets and grinning when he heard that first sigh above him.

Kisses were his equivalent. Loki said he often slept with his lips parted and that sometimes it was irresistible to lean in and fit their mouths together, Thor murmuring happily as he began to wake up.

He remembered the first time he woke rutting against Loki's flesh, how mortified he was about it. But Loki had been almost proud that his kisses had roused such a reaction, grinding forward himself until they spilled on one another's skin.

Which of course did not help Thor's cause of convincing Loki that he felt something more than just lust blended with affection. He felt both those things, yes, but that didn't represent the depths of his feelings.

Maybe Loki was finally beginning to see that. He claimed to believe some days and not others. Maybe it had finally begun to stick.

He tried not to be too optimistic, even as Loki reflexively cuddled his arm in his sleep. Even if Loki was beginning to feel such emotions, he knew his brother. It would worry him. He would run away from them. Pushing would only make him flee faster, would mean denial and fights. Better to believe what he believed privately and let Loki come to a conclusion on his own.

Actually, he knew it would be best not to come to any conclusions at all. If Loki decided he did not love him, he'd only be disappointed.

Not that his heart was listening as it danced happily in his chest as he slowly let sleep take him.


	75. Chapter 75

It took several weeks for Sam to receive a reply to his letters. It seemed his friends had been forced to move due to rent rises after the crash and it had taken some time for them to be reached.

And they weren't exactly hopeful. Loki read the news of course, but front line accounts, even through Sam's slightly stilted translation, of the shanty towns in the park or the lines for day work did not make Thor particularly optimistic.

Getting out of Germany was well and good as a scheme, but it could not be denied that at least they had a roof over their heads here. And besides, after paying a rent to Nebula out of Loki's earnings, their savings were hardly growing. It would cost every penny they had just for the boat and they'd arrive with barely more than the clothes on their backs.

"Alright," Loki said. "So we stay a while longer. Perhaps things will stabilize."

"You don't believe that," Thor said. "You think we're taking the long walk back to war."

Loki shrugged.

"Maybe. But I've mellowed in my age. Settling down has become vastly more appealing these last few years."

"But where? Maybe we're reaching too far. Maybe there's somewhere closer we could go..."

"Such as? If you think things are getting bad, why would anywhere in Europe be spared from that? Where do you want to go? Austria? Italy? Back to Russia?"

"Britain," Thor suggested. "It's an island."

"But barely a skip across the water from France. If we do this, we do it properly. We get far away. Oceans away."

Well, there was no point arguing about it, certainly not in front of company, if Sam even counted as company considering all the compromising positions he'd seen them in. But later, in private, Thor was determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Why America, Loki? I don't think they are exactly fond of Germany or Germans, even so many years after the war."

Loki sighed, arching his back, stretching before pulling the blanket up around his shoulders.

"Before I ended up here the first time, I met Victor. The picture house owner. He ran a little courier business of his own and he used to let us workers catch films at his establishment in return for a little skimmed produce. And... You have no idea what it was like to see those things at that time. Cinema... It was amazing. I saw lands I had only vaguely heard about."

"You want to go and live there because you saw a bunch of movies?"

Loki shrugged.

"Got to have dreams. Why do you think I was so obsessed with clipping out pictures of all the stars when I was living through my so-called imprisonment? Even before you came and showed me I might have something worth... Worth striving for, a future worth living, part of me wanted nothing more than to go there. Even just to visit. Once I had the money and the cabaret secured. And now... Well, you hear how the future is being laid out to us. The government promises to crack down on prostitution, on licentious behaviour, on crime generally. Our days living under the eyes of the law are numbered. If we're going to start fresh, it should be far away and if that means delaying then it means delaying."

"You go round in circles," Thor complained. "You say time is short but then you refuse to take action. You say you want to stop selling yourself and yet you delay calling a halt to it."

"Perhaps I'm learning to be cautious."

Thor rubbed the back of his neck, eyes furtive as he put out the light.

"For heaven's sake, Thor, get into bed. You can worry just as well from there."

No point in arguing. He didn't particularly want to cuddle, but his body had a mind of its own and folded its way around Loki's spine automatically.

"So we wait," he said, half a question. "How long for?"

He could almost hear Loki's thoughts whirring.

"Well, there'll be nothing there for us," he said. "So either we need to keep saving until we can make something when we get there, or we need to ensure there's something there waiting for us."

Thor frowned in the darkness.

"And how do we do that?"

A soft sigh.

"I'm working on that. In the meantime, we keep going. What else is there but keeping going?"

Thor stroked his thigh lightly, enjoying the tingle of the soft hair beneath his palm.

"There's family," he suggested. "Even when it's fractured and wrong. Being together. Being... I don't know. Home, I suppose."

A few beats of silence before Loki rolled closer, brushing their noses together.

"You feel like home," he murmured. "Does that make me blessed or something?"

"I'm not sure. I certainly feel lucky to have you."

"Hmm. Cuddle me properly then. Like you mean it. And promise me something."

"What?'

He was pulling Loki closer as asked, pillowing his head against his chest, stroking his hair, feeling their legs tangle together whilst being careful not to put any weight on him in case he put his feet to sleep with his bulk.

"Promise me that wherever we go, whenever and however we go there, you'll be my home."

Such a strange request, but Thor couldn't deny him even if he'd wanted to, humming gentle kisses against his scalp.

"I will. I promise."

He only realised the next morning how skilfully Loki had used quasi-romantic sentiment to deflect him from their discussion.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.


	76. Chapter 76

Nebula was angry and the whole house knew about it. Lewis scurried here and there, keeping out of her way, trying to predict her wants. Gamora, who generally tried to stay out of the house as much as possible, doing charitable world from what Thor could make out, was sitting in the parlour with her eyes closed when he came in, planning to take the carpet outside for beating. 

As Loki had wished, they had delayed, sitting tight for months. The hot summer air made Thor sluggish, eager to go outside to work where there might be a little breeze at least.

"Sorry, miss," he said upon seeing her. "I didn't know you were in here."

She drew her finger to her lips as a loud thump from the floor above made the windows rattle.

"What's the matter?" Thor asked.

"She was trying to form a new business alliance but unfortunately the potential new client's politics did not match hers."

Her voice was so quiet. Like there was a baby sleeping in the room that she was afraid to wake.

"Is that so very important?" he whispered.

"Well... Her card reads 'N. Armschiene' and so I rather assume he was anticipating a man. And that... That he may have made some unwise comments about her not being one."

Thor nodded vaguely. He knew there had previously been surprise and confusion at a woman running such a business as hers - and he suspected that she was as successful as she was - but Nebula had always seemed to revel in it before.

"They must have been unwise comments indeed," he said, crouching to roll up the rug. "I shall be sure to keep out of her way."

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

He was just getting into a rhythm with the bearer when he heard a light cough behind him. Lewis in the doorway, wringing her hands.

"She wants to see you," she said.

"Me? Are you sure?"

"Well, if you're not 'Odinson, the blond one' then I'm very confused."

He braced himself as he went inside. He'd never been up to Nebula's office before, not inside it. It was an annexe on the same floor as her private chambers, at the opposite end of the house from the attic room he shared with Loki. Two businesses, never meeting.

It was exactly as he might have expected. A huge darkwood desk in the middle of the room, ledger after ledger lining the walls, a stately chair for Nebula and two smaller ones for visitors. They would be comfortable, and yet there was no doubt about who was in control.

"You," she said the second she saw him. "How would you like to work for me?"

Thor blinked at her.

"Don't... Don't I already work for you?"

She let out a short bark of laughter.

"From my point of view, you live in my house and do some limited helpful housekeeping, but ultimately you are living here on the merit of your brother's income. I'm talking about going on my books properly."

He was hesitant. Cautious. He knew only too well what it was to cross Nebula. She was thin ice incarnate.

"In what capacity?" he asked.

She stood, pacing the room.

"I had a meeting today. A potential new client for my couriers, a mine owner still struggling on in business. I could undercut his current deal. Give him a far more lucrative contract for transporting coal around the city. And yet... all he could ask me was why I was not yet married and giving children to the Fatherland. Fatherland! I told him that my fiancé had passed in a tragic accident some years ago. But it made me think... This is not the first time I have been belittled for my gender. And I see a way around it. If they expect a man, I shall give them one."

Thor found himself like a spooked rabbit, unsure what exactly to do.

"You... You want me to..."

"Pretend you're in charge, yes. It's amazing really. I can vote, I could run for parliament if I so wished, but I feel my private business would do better with a puppet at the helm."

Thor wasn't sure how he felt about being anyone's puppet, let alone hers.

"Can I consider this for a while?" he asked.

"Confer with that brother of yours, you mean. Of course. But I trust you to come to a decision promptly."

She sat down and dragged a ledger across the desk. Thor got the distinct impression he'd been dismissed.

"If... If I agree," he asked. "Would you give Loki a job as well?"

"If you wish it, I'm sure I can find something for him to do."

She didn't even look up as Thor crept out, his head full of whirling thoughts.


	77. Chapter 77

He didn't want to discuss Nebula's offer in front of Sam, so the issue seemed to stick in Thor's throat all through the evening, stopping much else of sense from getting out.

"What is wrong with you tonight?" Loki asked towards the end of dinner. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'll tell you later."

Loki glanced across the table.

"Well, now I'm intrigued. Sam, would you mind?"

"Not at all," Sam said. "I was planning to have a bath tonight anyway, so I'll leave you to it."

Nebula had a real bathroom, one just for washing in, all tile and pipes. Thor still marvelled at it a little. He picked at his food as Sam finished his, leaving his plate with a wink and an assumption that one if them was going to do the dishes. Probably Thor.

"Nebula asked me today if I would front her business."

Loki swallowed a mouthful of mashed potato with some degree of difficulty.

"She did what?! But you don't know anything about a business like this or the logistics of it or..."

"No, no. No, not really run it. She just wants me to be a face for people to meet for their first impression. A male face."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly.

"And the right kind of male face at that. Blond hair, blue eyes, that forehead, that jaw... So trustworthy. What did you say?"

"I said I had to think about it. Talk to you about it."

Very wise. We'll make something of you yet. The first question is, what's in it for us?"

Thor drummed his fingers on the table. This was the part he was concerned about. How would Loki take it, him acting on his behalf?

"I asked if she'd give you a job too. A real job. So you wouldn't... You wouldn't have to..."

"Wouldn't have to keep selling my arse."

His voice was so cold and Thor felt his cheeks burn, wanting to deny what Loki was implying and yet not able to. It was true. He wanted it to stop.

"You said you wanted to... finish doing that. This could be a way out."

Loki gave him a smile with absolutely no happiness in it.

"Let me get this straight. You are so jealous that other men touch me that you would rather throw in your lot with a woman you witnessed murder her own father than let me continue utilising my skills and my body?"

"No! No, not... For a start, I don't 'let' you do anything, but..."

"I'm certainly glad that's clear."

"No, but I wanted to give you the option."

"Oh, please. You can't stand it, can you? You can't bear the thought of other men having me. Fucking me. I bet you begged Nebula to offer me something. Something right at the bottom of the heap, no doubt."

Thor put his head in his hands, sighing heavily.

"Alright, fine. You don't want it. Fine."

"I didn't say that."

He giggled at Thor's disbelieving stare.

"Oh, dear, Thor. You should see your face. Hmm, not getting off as often as you used to has done nothing for your sense of humour. But anyway. Let me negotiate with her. I'm sure we can come to some sort of mutually pleasing agreement. And then you can go back to being the only man I let take liberties with me."

"I'll 'liberties' you."

"Ooh, promises, promises."

In truth, he would be more comfortable with Loki doing the talking. And if he managed to secure work for them both, surely that could only be a good thing. New skills, potentially useful ones, maybe contacts who could help with their long-term emigration plans...

"Well, are you?" Loki asked.

"Sorry?"

"Are you planning to take me to bed after we eat or have you got other plans?"

Perhaps two could play at this game.

"I'd have thought you would be quite worn out, what with all those others tending to your needs."

A pout, fluttering lashes, all of it playing.

"No, they don't do it the way I like it. Only you get it right."

"Someone knows how to flatter."

"The ego is an under-appreciated sexual organ."

Thor laughed out loud at that, his annoyance ebbing away. Loki had such a talent for this. He'd needle and annoy and just when Thor thought he'd had enough, he'd turn it around with his wit and playfulness.

"Alright," Thor said. "But we finish dinner first. You can't have dessert until you eat all your vegetables."

Loki's eyes glittered across the table at him as he did highly interesting things to a carrot with his tongue.


	78. Chapter 78

He didn't know what had gotten into Loki that night, but he was certainly incorrigible. Thor found it increasingly difficult to do the dishes with Loki purring into his ear.

"Maybe I should drop to my knees and suck you right here. Or let you bend me over the table. But we'd probably end up shunting it across the room..."

Scrub, scrub, scrub... What had Sam put in this gravy that made it stick so badly? One of Loki's hands snaked around his body, rubbing at him through his clothes.

"Or we could just use the floor. If you lay flat on your back, I could ride you. Wouldn't even be uncomfortable."

"And have everyone in the whole house be able to smell what we'd been up to? Or worse, have someone walk in on us?"

"I find the risk arousing..."

Thor laughed, even though he had no intention whatsoever of using any room other than their own, no matter how many pretty tableaus Loki conjured for him. They had to have at least a modicum of respect for their cohabitants.

"You find everything arousing," he countered. "But you'll have to wait for the moment. You have to be patient, although I know that's not your strong point."

"I can be patient," and the pout was practically audible.

"Alright. Prove it. Go upstairs and wait for me. Prepare if you wish, but no more than that. If I catch you pleasuring yourself too much..."

He let the thought hang in the air as he heard Loki's footsteps skipping out of the room. He was hard, he knew, almost painfully so, but determined not to even give himself a quick palming to relieve the pressure. No, they were both to wait. He finished the dishes, wiped down the table - certainly not picturing Loki lying on it throwing a pleading look over his shoulder - and even went so far as to sweep out the old ashes from the grate before going upstairs, his ardour suitably cooled.

Avoiding the creaking floorboards, he crept towards their bedroom, but still wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.

Loki was on all fours... Or rather, three out of four as one hand was rather occupied, pumping three fingers in and out of his hole, his forehead pressed to the pillow, whole body rolling with it.

That position shouldn't even have been possible.

Thor crossed the room in two quick strides and seized Loki's wrist, getting a gasp in response. Pretend, he thought, but somehow he didn't really mind.

"That didn't look preparatory to me."

"It was. I'm so ready, you can just slide right in..."

It was almost torture not to do just that, rolling Loki onto his back and making him watch as he undressed slowly, crawling into his arms and laying kisses on his face.

"I don't know if I want to," he lied. "Since you were clearly having so much fun without me."

Loki leapt aboard his train of thought instantly.

"No, please, I need you. It's you I want, only you. Let me prove it to you."

Thor still wasn't sure about the ego being a sexual organ as such, but he couldn't deny it was very nice to have Loki praising him while not-so-subtly climbing on top, biting his lip as he gazed down at him, straddling his hips.

"Don't move," he said. "Let me do all the work."

Thor found himself feeling very decadent, lounging back as Loki reached behind himself and sank down onto his cock with a moan, rocking his hips gently.

"You should have let me do this downstairs."

"No. The flagstones. You'd have hurt your knees."

A little laugh and Loki leant down to kiss him, the slow rolling of their bodies mirrored by their mouths, soft and gentle. Thor would be quite satisfied to stay like this for ages, his arms carefully looped around Loki's neck. It certainly seemed to last for hours before Loki sighed against his lips and began increasing his pace.

There didn't seem to be any room for words, only kisses as Loki reached between them to stroke his cock. Thor tried to hold on and let him use his body for as long as he needed, finally spilling once the pulses of Loki's climax had almost subsided.

He didn't want to break the spell. He wanted to hold Loki close and fall asleep in the warm, soft feeling rolling through every cell of his body.

"That was nice," Loki murmured.

"Mmm..."

"Didn't even realise I wanted intimacy until I had it."

Thor frowned lightly, a little confused. Was Loki just talking about tonight or... Or did he mean their relationship in general...?

A gentle kiss to his lips and Loki nestled himself into his arms.

"You're right,' he said, in response to nothing. "We should sleep. Important conversations tomorrow."

Thor tried not to wonder if that had been Loki's way of thanking him for providing a potential new career.

Maybe there were no other other motives than mutual enjoyment.

Heaven knew, they could do with some.


	79. Chapter 79

Sitting in on the negotiations between Loki and Nebula felt like being at the side of some great warrior meeting with a warlike queen. Neither side underestimating the other and yet both convinced that they had the upper hand.

"You'll want a profit share, I assume?" Nebula asked, pen poised.

"But once room and board are deducted for ourselves and Mr Wilson..."

"Of course. Although he is a useful fellow. The house would be in quite a state if not for him."

That sounded like a point in their favour, but Thor couldn't shake the feeling that nothing could be certain here.

"If my brother is to be believed to be one of the high executives, I feel his name should be upon the door and stationery."

She frowned.

"The name Armschiene is known," she said. "It is a mark of trustworthiness and..."

"Armschiene and Odinson. It has a good sound to it, don't you think? Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end."

Thor did not fully understand why Loki was so determined on this point, but surely there was a purpose to it. What seemed a mere matter of nomenclature to him must have greater significance.

"And what role do you foresee for yourself? We have little use for pretty words and moans. Your man and Miss Lewis already take deliveries for me and I shall be utilising your brother for negotiations."

Loki tapped his fingers lightly on the desk.

"Your infrastructure," he said. "It is inefficient. Most deliveries are not urgent and surcharges for quick service seem logical to me."

"You wish to question my operation?"

Thor found himself on edge, afraid. This could all go terribly wrong.

"I wish to look at it. To see how it might be improved. You must own that I have a talent for encouraging extortionate payment for fleeting gains."

Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious, but she nodded.

"A trial. We shall see where we stand in a few months. If I am satisfied, I shall have the signs repainted."

Loki shook her hand across the desk. Thor could not tell who had won.

"Tomorrow, I want you to make a visit to the man I told you about," she said to Thor bitterly. "Apologise to him for the misunderstanding. It is a large contract and I mean to have it regardless of insult. Be affable. I'm sure you can manage that. I still have some of father's old suits. I'm sure Miss Lewis can tailor one to fit you."

Dismissal. They left her in peace, a hint of a smug smile on Loki's lips.

"The name?" Thor asked.

"Vital," Loki said, understanding him perfectly. "We will no longer be the Odinson brothers, whore and incestuous sibling, but respectable businessmen. Holders of position. Better placed to expand the business into other territories, to move to a new location and set up there."

It made sense now. With their name on a door, on documents, on cards... They would become new people once again. Men of merit.

He didn't think magpies changed their feathers for winter, but perhaps...

Perhaps they could after all.


	80. Chapter 80

"Ow!"

"Well, if you would just hold still..."

He was sure Lewis was not deliberately sticking him with pins, but she had managed to prick him several times before taking the coat from him and sitting down at the pedal sewing machine. Thanos had been broader even than he was so she was carefully trying to narrow the back of the jacket evenly. It wouldn't do to have it too obviously altered.

"Do you know what you're doing with that contraption?" Loki asked, lounging on one of the couches. "I could do it."

"I can manage," she said, a little reproachfully. "Who do you think fixed all my dresses for years, magic pixies? Besides, you'd make it too tight."

"He has a fine figure. It ought to be displayed."

"A figure is all well and good, but he must be able to raise his arm to shake hands. Besides, I'm sure the only person he wishes to show off his form to is yourself and you know every inch of it already."

"That I do. Rather intimately."

She snorted.

"Don't try to shock me. You forget I used to watch your show."

"I forget nothing. But I mean for others to have a little amnesia. As they have forgotten your past too."

She looked up over the top of the machine, pulling the thread out to cut it.

"I miss the days when 'whore' was the only insult they threw at me. Anyway, let's see how it looks."

Thor could indeed still move but he was not so swamped by it. Old-fashioned, of course, but perfectly serviceable. Loki certainly seemed to approve, getting up to smooth the fabric while she snipped off the loose ends.

"I think it will serve," he said as Lewis rolled her eyes.

"Do you know the man I'm going to meet?" Thor asked. "What's he like?"

"Mr Stane. He's... He's brash. He likes to feel superior to everyone around him. But you can handle him. I have faith."

Thor wished he did. Nebula had given him a thorough briefing that morning. He was to accept nothing less than the deal they had negotiated through written correspondence. He was to imply that Nebula was overstating her importance, that of course a man was really in charge. She didn't care what he believed, she just wanted the contract and the money.

"What is his business?"

"Coal. He runs mines. The contract is to deliver to businesses and private residences throughout the city. But I believe he's starting to move into electricity production so who knows how long he'll even need couriers for?"

Sometimes Thor marvelled at it. How would their parents react if they saw the world now? Light at the mere flick of a switch. They had been young when trains became commonplace. What would they make of the U-Bahn and S-Bahn racing through the city? Of the preponderance of motorcars that pootled through the streets?

What would they make of their eldest son wearing a dead man's suit and making his way through the streets to lie to a respectable businessman at the request of a murderer?

He sincerely hoped there was no afterlife sometimes. His parents didn't need to see what he and Loki were up to.

It was strange that he had thought of motorcars as he couldn't help but notice one as he approached the office building. Bright red. Unusual. Parked directly outside, with a fair few young lads admiring it.

"Hey! No touch."

Thor looked up as a man exited the front door, his slicked hair and sharp double-breasted suit demonstrating all the style Thor suddenly felt he lacked.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he said to Thor, American accent strange around the vowels. "You look like a man who knows machines."

"Not at all, sir. But I can appreciate aesthetics."

In truth, he thought the colour a little bold for a whole vehicle, but there was no reason to insult a stranger.

"And here I thought all you Krauts were born engineers. Even drive on the right side of the road. What's your business?"

Theatre and sex. No...

"Deliveries and courier services. I'm here for a contract meeting with Mr Stane. Yours?"

"Technology. Over here looking for contacts. There's little funding in the US with the crash. Got to expand. Here, take my card."

Thor accepted it gratefully. Mr H. Stark, of the upper east side, New York City. He wished Nebula had given him some of hers to offer in return, but never mind.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr Stark. Thor Odinson of Armschiene and Odinson. If you ever need a courier..."

"Thank you. Give me a call if you ever want a peak under the cap."

He winked. Thor was not quite sure what that meant, so he merely smiled and shook the man's proffered hand.

Stark winced.

"Cap isn't the the word, is it? The engine cover."

"Bonnet?"

"Ah! Yes. I knew it was something like that. Thank you. I hope your meeting is successful."

Barely an hour into his new role and he was already making business contacts. At least, he thought that's what had just happened.

He wondered if Loki would be proud of him as he watched Mr Stark drive off in a haze of effortless suave and made his way into the building.


	81. Chapter 81

"You see, I don't know if I can trust a man who gives his second in command so much power."

Thor hadn't realised just how unaccustomed he had become to tobacco smoke. All those years in the cabaret ought to have strengthened him against it, but he found his eyes watering at the onslaught of Stane's cigar. He managed to resist the urge to waft it away, but it was a close-run thing.

"Her late father was our company's founder," he said. "She knows the business."

"Were you in the war? You seem of age."

He seemed to change topic without warning. Like he was used to his whims being followed without questions.

"Indeed. On the Eastern Front. I was a prisoner in Russia for many years."

It still felt odd to state it. It still felt as though his military career had belonged to someone else. Or perhaps that was what his mind did to dull the memories of it.

"So you've served the country. Brave. Excellent. I noticed you had a Negro working for you when I visited."

Thor blinked. Nebula had not warned him about this.

"He's a good worker," he said uncertainly.

Stane nodded vaguely.

"Well, they are, aren't they?"

"I've only met one. I'm hardly an expert."

He hadn't meant to say that, or at least he hadn't meant for his tone to be as sharp as it was. Fortunately, Stane just seemed amused.

"Straight as an arrow, aren't we, Mr Odinson?"

Yes? No? What was the right answer to that? What would Loki do? Shrug and smile and bat his eyelashes. Oddly enough, Thor didn't think that would pass muster for him.

"The offer we've made is a good one, I feel," he said, trying to push the negotiation back onto the right lines. "I'm sure we can come to some agreement."

"It is more than fair. But I'm old-fashioned, you see. I need to know I'm dealing with someone I can rely on. Like Stark, for instance. You'll have seen his monstrosity as you came in. Odious Yank, but he is as he seems. Honest almost to a fault. Wears his identity on the sleeve of his over-starched shirt. But you... I can't quite work you out. It's like you're hiding something."

Thor did his best to appear reliable. What a shame he wasn't sure how to do that exactly.

"What's your ancestry?"

He was a little perplexed by that, but no matter. At least it was something he knew.

"My family hale from the south. As far as I know, both sets of my grandparents were from there as well. Though I believe there is Norse in us too, or certainly my father's people thought that's what they were. Perhaps some Mediterranean blood too for my brother has dark hair. That probably comes from my mother's side."

Those narrowed eyes beneath the bald head were really starting to put him on edge.

"I see. And what brought you to Berlin?"

"Seeking work, as a lot of people did. The crash has been difficult, but... Well, we are striving."

That seemed to go down well. Stane nodded some more. He liked to see people try. Perhaps also to fail. Thor tried to press that thought down as Stand slid their documents closer.

"If I'm unsatisfied with this service in any way, it's you I'll hold responsible," he said, reaching for a pen.

Thor watched him sign the contract, a tightening in his chest finally easing.

"I'll be in touch about putting this into practise, Mr Odinson. And I trust that you'll keep that woman under control."

Forcing a smile, a laugh, and Thor was finally able to flee, papers tucked neatly into his portfolio.

He'd done it. He wasn't sure how exactly, but he'd done it.

The city seemed different. Or maybe he felt different in it. He'd got away with it, got away with the ruse. And that made him feel strangely powerful. His breathing seemed meaningful. He could feel his blood in his veins, his pulse in his wrists.

Nebula was waiting for him, of course.

"You have it?"

She grinned as he pulled the contract out, the signature present and correct. He found himself up in the office, Loki smiling at him across the desk.

"I knew you'd do it," he said. "It's your winning ways."

"And I met an American," Thor said vaguely but hopefully. "Could be a new client."

Nebula took Stark's card, appraising its quality.

"Hmm. Maybe. In a week or so, you should visit him, find out what he needs. But for now, congratulations. Your first account. How was it?"

Thor was honest. He talked about how uncomfortable he'd been, how the questions and the lurching subjects of them had thrown him. How he'd been on the back foot for much of it and yet still got the result he wanted.

"You probably remind him of himself as a young man. Or how he wished he was. My father was forever favouring people like himself. It's human nature to a degree. Seeking a tribe."

Thor couldn't fault her logic, but it didn't ring true.

"I don't think he was ever much like me," he said. "Too shrewd, too... Piercing."

"I don't know," Loki said. "You're a sharp one when roused."

"Not like you are."

He was slightly unnerved by Loki's grin, now he thought about it. He looked suspiciously like he was plotting something.

"Well," Nebula said. "With any luck, you'll balance each other and go from strength to strength. I feel this may be the start of a profitable venture."

They planned their next steps. Meeting with Stane's deputies, coming up with the most efficient way to send out their fleet of deliverers. It felt dangerously normal. Like real business. Which he supposed it was.

"I'm proud of you," Loki said as they went downstairs to meet Sam for dinner. "Not that I doubted you for even a second."

"It was... It was almost fun, getting away with it. It was fun to pretend."

"Oh, isn't though? Why do you think I did it so long?"

Thor laughed. Well, there had to be some pleasure in it for Loki to be interested, of course.

"Anyway... I feel a little reward might be in order after dinner."

How intriguing, Thor thought, practically skipping down towards the kitchen.


	82. Chapter 82

"Sam, do you know somewhere called the Upper East Side?" Thor asked as they sat down.

Sam took a moment to reply, busy chewing the slightly tough beef they were eating.

"Sure. It's fancy. I've only been once. My cousin used to clean houses over there. Why?"

"I met a man who usually lives there today. A potential new business contact. Over here looking to expand his business."

"Are you thinking he could help with your emigration?"

Thor didn't want to admit it, but yes. The moment he'd heard the accent, he was jealous of Stark and his freedom to leave at any time. And, yes, maybe part of his brain had been trying to work out how this new acquaintance could be advantageous to their plans.

"I barely spoke to him," he said cautiously.

"Still. Any contact is useful."

That was certainly true, not that Thor was able to focus on it at present. Loki was not, in fact, waiting until after dinner and was instead gently stroking his thigh beneath the table. Just firmly enough that he couldn't possibly ignore it.

"It went well though?" Sam asked.

"Erm... I think so. I got what Nebula wanted. Which means she might give me more tasks. It's nice to be useful."

Loki's hand drifted up and around his leg, fingers exploring the softer flesh on the inside. Thor was suddenly extremely interested in the pattern on the edge of his plate.

"What about you, Loki? Looking forward to giving up your current career?"

"It will take some getting used to, but I think so. I don't have the stamina these days."

Thor tried subtly to move Loki's hand away from his crotch but he just started his ascent again from near his knee. It was difficult to keep his breathing and expression neutral, keeping blood away from his face.

"I'm excited about the new opportunities though. Aren't you _excited,_ Thor?"

Oh, that little...

"I'm trying extremely hard not to get my hopes up."

Loki's smile had a distinct air of mischief to it and Thor could hardly wait to replace it with a round moan of pleasure.

Dinner first though. Decorum. Politeness. He could withstand anything Loki threw at him. Two could play at being troublesome.

"Are you planning to use your knife at all?" he asked. "Mother didn't raise you to hold your fork in your right hand."

Loki speared his meat and pulled a chunk off with his teeth, a feat that seemed more difficult than he'd expected.

"Mother didn't raise us to do a lot of things."

Sam rolled his eyes at them and Thor got the distinct impression that he knew exactly what was going on under the table.

"What does she transport at the moment?" Thor asked, trying to act normal. "You take in deliveries here. Do you know what's in them?"

"I don't tend to ask," Sam said. "The usual things that come in overnight are quite heavy. But sometimes there's documents needing whisked about the place. Time sensitive stuff, needing dealt with by close of business hours."

"And are there ever any... issues? With the couriers and you?"

"About my skin, you mean?"

"Well, I didn't want to be quite so blunt about it..."

"Why not? We're friends, you can ask. I don't mind. And yes... There are issues on occasion. Mainly just surprise, I think. If you're expecting Nebula, I'm quite a shock. But it's not as bad as it might be. Most of them don't give a damn about most things outside of their work and hone life, from what I can tell. They certainly don't have time to get into racial debates. Walking the streets is far worse than being at work."

At least Loki had removed his hand for this conversation.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I'm a little rarer as a sight here than I was in Harlem, so that's already something. I feel more exposed. I don't mind that so much, but... It's little things. Women crossing the road like they're scared, I can handle. Strange man, different to most folks they see, I don't worry about them being worried. I know I'm no harm. But telling their children not to look at me - not staring, just looking out of curiosity - that doesn't sit so well. It's like they think if they look away, I'll just vanish. It's the way shopkeepers are respectful to everyone but me. The little comments that they think I can't hear or don't care if I do... But, you know it is... My father wasn't old enough to see the Civil War and my grandpa was only a child, but we always got reminded things could be worse. Things used to be worse. And I'm grateful for that."

"Being grateful that the plague is gone doesn't negate the suffering caused by the flu," Loki said.

Sam nodded, unable to do more than acknowledge the truth of that.

"It's getting worse again, I know that. There's a kind of tension in the air. I go to buy food and I see men out on the street and I see them thinking. 'Why is he working when I am not? Why does he have money and I don't? Who would employ him before employing me? Don't they know what he is? Can't they see it?'"

His voice had become steadily more and more bitter, wiping the remains of his gravy from his plate with one finger and contemplating it.

"I can't blame them for wanting a scapegoat," he said. "But I can't help being worried that it might be me."

He licked his finger clean, placing his cutlery neatly upon the dish.

"But if you'll excuse me, Darcy promised she'd teach me some songs from her childhood. I don't get to play nearly often enough these days."

Thor stated sadly at his food, not really tasting it.

"At least he has people," Loki said. "Friends. Whatever relationship Darcy is to him. He's not alone. He's right, it could be worse."

By the time they were halfway through washing the dishes, they could hear the warm flow of the saxophone from the parlour.

Thor wished Lewis knew happier songs.


	83. Chapter 83

"You see, now you've got yourself all serious and you've gone right off the boil," Loki complained, leading Thor up to bed.

"Sorry. It's difficult. I worry."

"So do I. Worry that you're not getting enough distraction, which is exactly what I was planning to do."

"Maybe if we talk a little...?"

Loki sighed and Thor could quite understand why. If he wasn't in the right mood now, further discussion on the subject would almost certainly not help.

"Alright," he said however, flopping down on the bed. "Tell me all about this American you met."

Thor sat, feeling a little awkward.

"Well, we... We didn't speak much. But he was very charming. He seemed keen to make business contacts. Something about technology and infrastructure."

"Hmm. Not much of either of those going on here at the moment, but I suppose, with the right input and investment, it's possible."

"He drove a bright red car. Not sure I'd seen one like that before. Very flashy and loud. And he wore the kind of sharp suit that your movie stars do."

"Rich then. I'd say criminal on instinct, but I'll withhold judgement until I meet him."

"Meet him?"

"Of course. I'm not going to let you go blundering in there by yourself. It would be a disaster."

Thor wasn't sure if he was offended or not as he seized Loki's ankle, fingers effortlessly encircling it.

"Funny," he said softly. "Here I was thinking you _liked_ my blundering."

Loki's lips quirked a little, his mind almost visibly turning over a potential new game.

"Well... you do have a certain something. It's very difficult to put my finger on it. It's like you're one of those children who can calculate complex arithmetic mentally. But with sex. It's the instinctive nature of your blundering that gives me shivers. The lack of artifice."

"You mean I blatantly have no idea what I'm doing."

"No! Well, sometimes... But you care about what you're doing and you always strive to be good at it."

"Because I care about you. I want you to feel good."

"Mm. And that's nice. Like right now, I can tell you know that I'm a little needy and so you're preparing to brace yourself and grit your teeth and give me what I want even though you're not quite on the same page."

"I'm sure I'll get to the same page soon enough once we get started."

"Hmm," Loki said, head tilted. "No. Come here. Cuddles. Now."

Thor couldn't deny being a little confused as he lay down, letting Loki scoop him into his arms, shuffling his body close, both of them still fully clothed.

And it was very pleasant. He couldn't deny it. He could feel himself relaxing into the embrace, a soothing warmth rolling through his whole being. Nothing expected. Nothing demanded. Not tonight.

He initiated the kissing. Long, slow, gentle kisses that weren't necessarily leading to anything. And that felt so nice. It was like a long conversation. A whole week's worth of thoughts and feelings shared in the soft pressure. Like he was communing with nature itself or some great spirit. What was Loki doing to him to make him feel this way?

Or had it always been like this? Had he just always been distracted before, his libido shouting so loudly that it drowned out all other senses? Had he never before taken the time to appreciate the intimacy, the closeness such care afforded them?

He wanted to fall asleep like this, drifting from conscious to unconscious without noticing...

But when Loki let out a little moan, a little half sigh of want, he didn't hesitate. He kept their mouths together as he reached down, unlacing Loki's trousers and freeing his cock.

He might have had no idea once upon a time, but he knew exactly what he was doing now. He swallowed all of Loki's moans, feeling the almost cold rush of air against his face as Loki struggled to breathe quickly enough through his nose.

Fast and firm, brushing his thumb over the head and Loki jerked towards him, whimpering almost as he came, his kisses so firm suddenly.

He was breathless and perfect as Thor finally drew back from him, going to quickly rinse his hand and undress before getting back into bed.

"See?" Loki whispered, wriggling out of the rest of his clothes as he turned out the light. "You always give me what I need."

Thor silently hoped that would always be true as he once again found himself in the peace of Loki's embrace.


	84. Chapter 84

Nebula set him up in the office, even finding a second fine chair for him like they really were equals. A kind of code developed between them, though she didn't seem to notice. While she was dealing with the day to day running of the business, he was essentially window dressing, but when new potential clients came to visit, he began to come into his own.

A cleared throat from Nebula would have him asking questions. He learned the minuscule changes of her face that said she was pleased or furious. She scraped her feet on the floor beneath the desk when she was tried of people. Thor learned to close deals quickly when he heard that scratching sound. It was for everyone's safety.

"I was thinking I'd visit that Stark fellow," Thor said a week or so after he'd begun working for her.

"You're very determined to see him, aren't you?"

He ignored the underlying question of why he was really so interested. If she didn't ask, he wouldn't tell, and even then maybe not. Loki had taught him well. Deflect and distract.

"He's a technology man. Could need people in our line of work for moving raw materials, delicate instruments... And he's American, just beginning his investments over here. We could get in on the ground floor, as it were."

She was suspicious, but he'd been doing everything she had asked.

"I promise nothing," she said. "But if you want to make inquiries..."

He did. He wished his handwriting were neater as he pulled some of Nebula's headed paper across the desk. Everything was still labeled with only her name, but Thor didn't mind that. It made sense to use up what she already had before buying more. He knew Loki was still rather stuck on the point, but what he didn't know shouldn't worry him.

In fact, Loki was distracted himself these days. He seemed determined to prove himself in this new world. He operated in the dining room with a huge map of the city marked with pins and pencil lines, plotting routes as efficiently as he could, timing the couriers to find the fastest shortcuts for them and their tattered bicycles.

Before long, the kitchen yard had a distinct smell of oil and grease about it as they became distinctly less tatty. Sam seemed to understand machines somehow, managing to tighten a nut here or straighten a gear there and have them good as new in no time. Thor would almost say he'd been waiting for a chance to try fixing them up for some time, but hadn't wanted to interfere with the business without permission.

Maybe the sound of squeaking wheels and rattling chains upset his musical ear.

How many years had Thor gone without writing? Before the cabaret's appointment book, he hadn't seen a pen for half a decade or more. No wonder it felt strange in his hand to write a formal letter, one in which he wanted to make a very good impression.

Or maybe not so formal. Mr Stark had been almost over familiar when they met. He hadn't known many Americans personally. Only Sam really. Maybe it was normal and friendly to behave that way in their culture. Perhaps he would appreciate such an approach.

Thor carefully noted in his letter how he had been admiring his car when they met in the hope of jogging Stark's memory, but also made an attempt at flattery by saying surely everyone found such a vehicle beautiful before asking for an appointment to discuss business affairs and automobiles. Friendly, but not overly jovial, just in case. It would serve, he thought.

He carefully copied out the address of Stark's German office from his business card and sealed the envelope for Lewis to deliver. He wanted to give it to her immediately, to be sure it had not been forgotten, excitement bubbling in his chest.

It fled when he found her quietly weeping in the kitchen.


	85. Chapter 85

Thor didn't quite know what to do in this situation. It was not like finding Loki crying, when he could rush to his side to hold and comfort him. Lewis might be embarrassed to be found so. This was a private moment and he was inadvertently trespassing.

A creaking floorboard gave him away as he tried to retreat. She looked over her shoulder with a gasp as he tried to sneak off, breath shaking from her sobs.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to intrude. Are you alright?"

"What do you think?"

She turned away again and Thor hovered uncomfortably. He couldn't just leave now, not when she'd seen him.

"Has... Has something happened?" he tried.

"No. Yes. I don't want to talk about it."

He still didn't think he should leave her, but approach and especially physical touch might be unwanted. He didn't know what to do.

"Has someone said something to you?"

She sighed, her breath sounding distinctly damp.

"No," she said bitterly. "It's nothing to do with that, nothing to do with anything you can help. Please, just..."

"Thor."

He turned to find Sam behind him, taking off his gloves before beckoning him down the hall.

"She's upset," Thor whispered helplessly.

"I know," Sam said, voice low. "And I know you want to help, but trust me, you can't."

"What's wrong?"

He just shook his head, looking away, though Thor could still see pain in his eyes. Whatever this was, it was affecting both of them. That made it worse.

"I just wanted to give her a letter to deliver, but it's... It's fine, I'll take it myself. It's fine."

Sam nodded, patting Thor on the shoulder as he walked past him into the kitchen. He watched as he laid a hand gently on Lewis's shoulder, kneeling down beside her and stroking her back, letting her rest her head on the top of his.

Whatever was going on here, it was making his heart ache.

Fresh air would probably help with his suddenly full mind and he made a beeline for outside, only pausing to look in on Loki and ask where the post office was.

"Give whatever it is to Darcy," Loki said, not even looking up. "The outgoing mail is her job."

"She's not feeling well," Thor said, not quite lying, he felt. "And it's very important. I'd rather do it myself. Less worrisome that way."

Loki shrugged, seemingly absorbed in his work, pointing out directions on his map before Thor headed out.

It was still warm although autumn was nearly breathing down their necks, the leaves just thinking about turning. There were posters everywhere, the impending elections dominating the landscape.

Maybe that was what Lewis was upset about. She was nervous maybe, worried about the results and what would happen afterwards.

He couldn't even convince himself of that. Nerves would not create such crushing despair. That had been something personal, something she didn't want to tell him about. Which was her right, but as her friend it still made him concerned.

He took a deep breath outside the post office. This was it. Hopefully the first step towards a new life.

Once the envelope was gone, its future was out of his hands.

As far too many things seemed to be these days.


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to warn about content specifically up here as it's meant to be a reveal for Thor (and hopefully you), so please go to the end notes for spoilery content warnings if you feel you may need them.

Sam seemed nervous at dinner and Thor could practically feel it coming off him in waves. Maybe he wanted to come clean about it. Still, that was his decision and Thor was not going to prompt him to it.

"Is Darcy feeling better?" Loki asked, all innocence for once.

"A bit," Sam said, sighing. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't press her on the subject. If she wants to talk about it, she will. But I would rather you let her come to it when she's ready. If she's ready."

Thor knew his face had gone pink. He hadn't lied as such, but he had implied she was sick rather than just upset.

"Oh, we won't," Loki said next to him, rescuing him as usual. "Don't worry."

The rest of the meal passed awkwardly and Thor was sure he was going to be asked some pertinent questions once the dishes were done and they went up to bed.

Sure enough...

"Are you planning to tell me what that was all about?"

Thor sighed. It wasn't really any of their business, but then again, he could at least forewarn Loki so he wouldn't be surprised if he too discovered Lewis in such a state himself.

He relayed what had happened as they undressed, in a thoroughly awkward manner that still didn't scratch the surface of his embarrassment, finally getting into bed and watching Loki flop down next to him.

"Well, I suppose it's not surprising," Loki said. "This was bound to happen sooner or later."

"What was?"

Loki reached over to shut out the light before replying.

"Well, think about it. A young woman who kept herself through our mutual profession begins to share her living space with a man and subsequently gives up said career. What might you infer from that?"

Thor shifted a little uncomfortably. The sheets seemed unusually cold this night.

"That she didn't want to do it anymore."

He heard Loki laughing at him in the dark and reached out blindly to cover his mouth, getting a kiss to his fingertips for his trouble.

"So astute, Thor. But I believe it might be fair to project that perhaps an exclusivity had arisen between the two. A relationship built not on commerce but on mutual attraction and respect. And what tends to happen in that situation?"

Thor wracked his brain. What happened when two people embarked on a relationship together? Well, any number of things.

"They would plan a future together," he ventured.

"Ooh, so close."

The ceiling was being irritatingly unhelpful.

"I don't know. They would become a team together, organising their lives."

Loki snorted.

"You're not thinking about Darcy and Sam," he said. "You're thinking about you and me. Come on, it's staring you right in the face. A man and a woman in an intimate relationship..."

Oh...

"You think she's pregnant?"

"No. I think she _was_ pregnant and is no longer."

Thor felt as though part of his heart had broken off and shattered. No wonder she wept if that was the case. But now Loki had mentioned it, he was curious... He could not remember anyone being pregnant in the cabaret, but they had lots of men. Surely it was inevitable.

"How do they prevent it?" he asked. "The working women, how do they not fall pregnant all the time?"

"Various methods. I don't like to pry of course, but I've heard tell of special caps worn internally, something called a womb veil which I've never looked into very carefully. Diligent washing after clients, though that seems more hopeful than actually effective. And, of course, if they fail, there's methods to get rid of any accidents. From what I've heard, very much not recommended."

Thor swallowed hard. He'd worked on the farm for years, mainly with grain and other crops, but he had seen animals give birth. It seemed so easy for then compared to the screaming agony humans went through. If he thought back, maybe he had a half memory of Loki being born, of being kept downstairs by a neighbour while he heard his mother's cries that were suddenly doubled by Loki's first ever sounds.

"Does it hurt?" he whispered.

"I think it depends on the method, but yes. And I think sometimes it means they can't ever have children. Even when they want them."

Thor thought of Lewis weeping at the kitchen table, the pain in Sam's face, the way they were suffering in near silence and couldn't help tears from rolling out of the corners of his eyes.

"Still, it's probably for the best," Loki said.

Thor found himself gasping in shock, a strange wet sound.

"How can you say that?" he asked. "It's awful."

"Would you wish this world on a child? Would you wish this world on a child whose parents are legally unable to marry, whose very skin would mark them out as different, whose mother and father each face prejudice every day of their lives? Would you make a child grow up in this uncertainty?"

"No," Thor huffed. "No, I wouldn't. But you cannot deny that child would be loved and cherished. It's that I grieve for. And for Sam and Lewis, to have lost that chance."

Loki shuffled close to him and clumsily wiped his eyes.

"Don't show her your pity," he said. "You'll only insult her. Your heart is too big for your own good sometimes."

Thor couldn't agree. He felt his heart wasn't nearly big enough for all the sorrows he tried to lay in it.

He hoped Sam and Lewis would be able to comfort one another. And that the world would become kinder to them. Heaven knew it couldn't be much crueler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upon learning of Thor seeing Darcy crying, Loki speculates that she may have suffered a miscarriage and that she may be unable to carry a child to term due to the unsafe backstreet abortions of the time. Nothing graphic is mentioned.


	87. Chapter 87

Thor woke with a strange resolution in his heart, as though his brain had been whirring in his sleep, seeking solutions for him. It was Sunday, a day of no responsibilities. And therefore he could do what little he could to make things better.

Besides, another thought, one he was rather ashamed of if he was honest, had surfaced from the depth of his subconscious overnight.

If Lewis had suffered such a horrible pain here, perhaps it would be easier to convince her to come away with them and start a new, fresh life somewhere else.

And on a smaller scale, he could encourage her to leave the house without needing to complete a task at least. Fresh air. It might help.

"I'm going to invite Lewis out for a walk," he told Loki's spread-eagled form.

"Why?"

"I think the it will be good for her. She's always working, cooped up in here. A little nature can do wonders. We'll go to the park, have a calm time away from the house, away from all of... everything."

Loki rolled over, his face squashed against the pillow.

"Just be careful what you say. I know you won't mean to upset her, but you'll get upset if you do and then I'll be the one who has to deal with you being all despondent."

Thor laughed, scrabbling beneath the blanket to tickle one of Loki's feet just to hear him squeal at it.

"I'll do my best," he said in all seriousness. "And I'm sure she'll know my heart's in the right place. She'll indulge me and hopefully feel better off the back of it."

It was easier said than done.

"Wouldn't you rather take Loki?" she asked when he suggested it, hoping his forced cheer wasn't too brittle.

"Oh, he's planning to have a lazy Sunday. Surely you won't make me walk around by myself?"

She sighed and huffed but seemed resigned and finally fetched her coat. It wasn't cold, but she seemed determined to cover up as much as possible.

Thor realised his mistake early, as they passed poster after poster for the election. And worse, he noticed he occasional glance in their direction and wondered if he was just imagining that they were unpleasant. Maybe it was all in his head.

"Take my arm," he murmured, holding it out to her.

She looked at him a little strangely but reached up to hook her hand around his elbow. Thor glared back at any looks thrown their way as he swept their way down towards the Tiergarten.

"I realise you might have been shocked yesterday," Darcy said softly once they had moved past the buildings and into the green space of the park.

"You don't need to explain yourself to me."

"No, but... I wasn't feeling well. That's all."

He nodded. He meant what he said, she didn't need to tell him anything.

She sighed and let out a strange little laugh.

"Am I really so poor a liar?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter. It's none of my business. I just wanted to take a walk with my dear friend, get outside, experience a little of the last few weeks of summer..."

They positively sauntered, feeling so far away from the city as they wandered through the park, only the evidence of people living there in tents reminding them of the current situation throughout the country.

He wasn't sure if he ought to say anything else. Sneaking little glances at her face revealed nothing. She seemed pensieve but peaceful. Was that good? Or was she just numb?

Eventually they came to one of the ponds and Thor laid his coat on the ground so Lewis could sit on it, happy enough to risk getting mud on his own trousers. They sat and watched the ducks on the water, though Thor was a little surprised that no one had yet tried to catch and eat them. Maybe that's why they seemed particularly wary.

"I think it would be nice to be a duck," Lewis suddenly said, dragging his attention away from the play of wind on water.

"Getting to waddle everywhere?"

It was so good to see her smile.

"No. Just not having any worries except where the best weeds grow. Where the softest roosting space is. And being able to fly away whenever you want."

A chance. Thor hesitated. Should he...?

"Do you want to fly away?"

She fiddled with the hem of her coat, picking at a loose thread.

"Sometimes. Or I want to go backwards. I was happy once, I think. Though I struggle to remember when. Or sometimes I just want to go to sleep for years and years and wake up with all the world's problems magically solved."

"That sounds nice."

"Hmm. I know what you mean, though. Do I want to fly away with all of you when you leave? That's what you're really asking."

He waited for her to continue, biting his tongue, determined not to speak out of turn.

"Sam wants me to," she said. "If he could, he'd probably roll me up in a carpet and smuggle me onto a boat. But of course, even if he managed that, we'd be destitute. Their laws are stricter I think. Most of the time you need a job to emigrate. Or to be married to someone who has one or who is already a citizen. And Sam can't marry me."

Thor's brain was starting to wave flags at him. An offer he could make.

"If Loki and I... If we found a way, would you be prepared to marry one of us? It wouldn't mean anything. Obviously. But it would get you across the water."

In front of them, one of the ducks dived beneath the surface of the pond, ripples showing where it had been before it popped up several yards away.

"I've had more romantic proposals," she said flatly.

"Is that a yes, or...?"

She turned to look at him.

"There are more than just the four of us to think about, you know."

Unwittingly, his eyes flicked down to her belly. Maybe Loki was wrong. Maybe she'd been weeping for all the reasons they'd talked about, for the child's future.

"What about Gamora and Nebula?" she continued. "What will you tell them?"

He hadn't so much as given them a thought, a guilty expression no doubt spreading across his face.

She laughed brightly, getting to her feet.

"Of course I'd marry one of you," she said. "Sam's talked me round. But Nebula won't be best pleased. She'll smell a rat."

"Maybe we don't have to tell her right away," Thor suggested, flopping his coat over one arm and offering the other for her to take.

"You we're right," she said as they neared the edge of the park. "A walk did do me good."

Even if it was only a little bit, Thor was glad of it.


	88. Chapter 88

Loki burst out laughing when Thor told him how he'd proposed to Lewis in the park as they watched the ducks.

"Why's that so funny?"

"Oh, because it's so you. Of course you're going to announce life-changing ideas out of the blue sitting in front of a stagnant pond. Did she say yes?"

"She did. To either of us, by the way. It just seemed to be the easiest way to get all of us across the ocean."

"Now, hang on a moment, you proposed on my behalf? That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?"

"Loki, be serious."

"I am. How do you know there's not another lady I'm already sweet on?"

He was only saying it to be playfully vexing and Thor didn't really want to give him the satisfaction and yet he was still pouting and frowning as he pulled Loki close, a hand around his waist.

"I'd know," he insisted. "I'd recognise the signs."

"Ooh... So sure of yourself. What signs might those be?"

"Why, the signs of love, of course. Sighing. Smiling. Gazing into the distance with visions of your beloved. Self-pleasure..."

"Well, I have you to handle that last one."

He did indeed, his hand roaming over Thor's back suggesting that was exactly what he wanted.

"Do we have time?" Thor asked. "Shouldn't we wait until after dinner?"

Loki pouted at him, leaning close.

"No... Now. _And_ after dinner."

Thor laughed and let Loki push him onto the bed, straddling his hips and unbuttoning his shirt. There was something strange about his look, a faintly troubled expression.

"What's that face for?"

Loki pressed a thumb to one of his nipples hard, making him hiss.

"You think you have a monopoly of jealousy? Can't I be even a little annoyed that my partner has decided to marry someone else?"

Was this real or just a game? His instincts said the latter, but it was so difficult to tell with Loki sometimes 

"It's just Lewis. You know that."

"Ah-ah. She won't be Lewis anymore. She'll be Frau Odinson."

He seemed to be in a torturous mood, relentlessly teasing Thor's nipples to make him pant, slapping his hands away when he tried to touch in return.

"She'll soon have a claim on you that I will never have," Loki continued, still maddeningly clothed but rolling his hips.

"You already have that," Thor managed. "No one else means what you do to me."

"Brotherhood is an accident of birth."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Loki smiled down at him, reaching for the ties on his trousers with one hand and still stroking Thor's chest with the other.

"Maybe you should convince me," he said.

There was no brain space left for words. He could barely form a simple sentence, let alone a coherent argument.

Instead, Thor sat up, catching Loki unaware and forcing him to cling on as he was shunted into his lap, both arms around each other when Thor lunged for his mouth, kissing hard and long and forcefully, determined to prove himself in this at least.

Loki was panting when they broke apart, his cheeks pink and his pupils huge and dark.

"Convincing?" Thor asked, brushing their noses together.

"Maybe. Try again, let me see."

Somewhere along the line, they ended up lying down again and somewhere after that they lost their trousers, kicked off and rumpled at the end of the bed, Loki's hand wrapped around both their lengths and Thor kissing and kissing him, fingers tangled in his hair and clutching his hip just a hair shy of possessively.

When Loki finally cried out against his lips, Thor took a degree of satisfaction in holding him through it, pushing his hand away to finish himself and letting him bask in the warm glow pleasure without distraction.

Except the distraction of watching Thor reach his own climax, of course.

"You're the only one who gets to do that with me," Thor murmured, nuzzling at his face.

"So are you," Loki breathed, eyelids fluttering, utterly spent.

Sam's raised eyebrows as they sheepishly shuffled into the kitchen told them all they needed to know about how late they were to dinner.


	89. Chapter 89

He hadn't expected a prompt reply to his letter. Mr Stark was surely a busy man, with dozens of correspondants to keep track of.

But maybe he was in desperate need of courier and transportation services, for on an otherwise unremarkable Tuesday morning Nebula handed Thor a crisp envelope embossed with Stark's name. Flashy and impressive, like the man himself.

She seemed quietly impressed. Perhaps she hadn't thought him capable of writing a letter that would get the attention of a real, serious businessman.

He sincerely hoped that Mr Stark was indeed a serious businessman and that his letter contained good news.

Had he ever had a letter he was more nervous about opening? To be fair, he hadn't had too many letters at all over the years. Hadn't needed them. No one needed to talk to him from further than the next room or the next house throughout his youth. The only letters their family received were occasional missives from his parents' friends or distant cousins whose names he had forgotten long ago.

He almost didn't want to open it. Unopened, disappointing contents would never need to be known. Dreams would never be dashed. Hopes would be left soaring.

His hand trembled as he took up the shining letter opener, glinting in the sunlight from the window, slipping between the parchment edges of the envelope.

The paper made a whispering sound as he drew it out, like a promise being made. He held his breath as he unfolded it, his eye flicking to the flamboyant signature before the refined typed script.

"He wants to meet with me!" he exclaimed.

Nebula fixed him with a thoroughly unimpressed look. He ought to have known that he couldn't rely on her to share his excitement. She didn't realise how important this might be.

"When does he suggest?" she asked, pulling over the diary ledger.

"Er... Thursday morning."

"I can spare you then. You may go."

He couldn't even bridle at her condescention. He was too excited about getting through the rest of the day and telling Loki of the appointment. He scrawled a brief confirmation of the meeting, handwriting positively jubilant, and placed it carefully with the rest of the outgoing post.

If she had a more jovial temperament, he'd have thought Nebula seemed amused by his sheer enthusiasm for having successfully engineered a simple meeting.

To his surprise - though less so, if he thought about it - Loki had more reservations than he expected when he revealed the good news over dinner.

"Thursday?" he said, eyebrows raised. "But that gives me barely a day to prepare you in."

"Prep... What do you mean? I'm prepared."

Loki laughed hollowly into his mug, taking a quick sip and swallowing hard.

"You are not subtle, Thor. You'll wander in there and ask for passage to America at the first meeting. Softly, softly. Gain his trust first. Make him see us as useful and not merely desperate men trying to take advantage of a kind nature."

That was unfair and Thor mumbled as much. He wouldn't be so stupid as to show his hand that early.

"And, of course, you need to marry Darcy as soon as possible. It will only cause suspicion in immigration if it's too recent. They're very suspicious about that kind of thing."

Sam's cutlery clattered onto the table. He hadn't known. She hadn't told him.

Thor cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We thought... To make it easier," he tried.

"I get it," Sam said sharply. "Don't worry about it. Just a little surprised, that's all."

He was hurt though. That much was obvious.

"It must be difficult," Loki said cautiously. "Wanting to do right by her but being unable to."

Sam sniffed, looking away. It made Thor's heart ache. He was just trying to do what was right, just trying to help. But it wasn't fair.

None of it was.


	90. Chapter 90

"Stand up straight."

Thor sighed for what felt like at least the twentieth time since he got up. Loki had let him sleep later than he'd wanted to, apparently so that he'd look refreshed, but in reality making him feel unpleasantly rushed. He'd changed his hair several times, tying it up and back or leaving it loose or scrunching it into a bun. Normally Thor liked Loki touching his hair and head like that, but this had just reminded him uncomfortably of being readied for church on Sundays, pestered over the shine of his shoes and the press of his collar.

"I doubt Mr Stark will notice me slouching."

"You look better when you don't."

"Well, then, I doubt he'll care about that."

"You never know."

It really was unfair that Loki was effortlessly well turned out. His hair shone, beautiful where it lay in a perfect tail against his back.

Mr Stark was on the telephone when they arrived and Thor couldn't help but stare. He'd seen them before of course, but never up close. How quickly had he managed to get connected? Thanos had considered them a waste of time and Nebula seemed in no real rush to replace her telegram system.

He was speaking English, so Thor felt no qualms about standing within ear and eyeshot as Mr Stark made apologetic faces at them.

"Family troubles," Loki murmured.

"Since when do you...?"

"Sometimes foreign clients come in useful. Even if a lot of what they taught me is not fit to be repeated in public."

Thor carefully swallowed any unexpected jealousy threatening to crawl into his throat - a rare flare-up these days - and kept his face neutral and bland.

"My apologies," Stark said, standing up and shaking their hands. "Darling Papa is rather, er... Oh, not touchy, something stronger than that."

He snapped his fingers a few times.

"Annoyed?" he tried. "Close enough. He's annoyed about my insistence that Germany has areas of industry just right for our company. Worried about his good name being tarnished. Should have thought about that before naming me after you, Pops!"

Although Thor had warned Loki, he couldn't help but notice his brother seemed slightly dazed. Time to take control then.

"Mr Howard Stark, may I introduce my brother, Loki Odinson."

"Oh, of course, of course. You must know exactly what I mean, carrying the patronym. Does your father breathe down your necks all the time?"

"I'm afraid he has long ago passed on."

Thor was almost shocked by the calm in his own voice. He mentioned their parents reasonably often, but the spectre of their deaths was pushed away, put out of sight and mind. Almost as though they were yet living in some magical land where all the current troubles of the world couldn't touch them.

When Stark expressed his condolences, he was surprised how much he appreciated it. Whatever else he was, he was certainly sincere.

"What sort of business are you operating?" Loki asked, settling himself into one of the plush visitor's chairs. "Thor did try to explain, but, well, as he told you, his understanding of these things is somewhat scant."

And there was the Loki he knew and loved. Sounding out the stranger. Telling them half truths and letting them infer whatever else they pleased. Thor was happy enough to play at ignorance if that was what Loki thought best, though playing might not be needed here.

"I'm a technical man," Stark said. "A... A technician, there's the one. I make things. You know. I'm a man who makes things."

"An inventor?"

"Ah, inventor? Right. Must remember that one. But the best car in the world is nothing without a road to drive it on. The best steam engine needs rails to go along. You'd think planes wouldn't be a problem, but you really need big, flat, hard surfaces for them to take off and land on. That's what I'm doing here. Or rather, what I want to be doing. If I can get the funding."

"And who decides that?"

"The government. And since your elections are coming up so soon, everything about that is a bit, er... In the sky? Do you say that? You know, uncertain."

"Up in the air?" Thor suggested.

"Exactly. But I'm confident, though my father wishes I wasn't so. We'll get investment. And that's why I'm trying to get everything else in place first, including transportation of raw materials."

Thor found himself frowning lightly.

"Surely it would make more sense for you to transport them on your building machines," he said.

Loki kicked him under the table as Stark pointed at him.

"You're honest, Odinson. I like that. And I wish I could but those machines are for building, not carrying. Trucks and so forth are an expense I don't need. I'd much rather pay someone who knows what they're doing to do it for me."

"Is that how you do it in America?" Loki asked.

"Of course. Though I think my father thinks it would be a good idea to set up a branch of our own business to handle it. He's only ever really trusted himself. Barely trusts me. Now, I know this is an early negotiation, with a lot of questions still up in the air - see, I'm learning - but what go you say so far?"

Thor saw Loki smile next to him, a genuine one. The signs were subtle unless you knew what to look for.

"I think this could be the start of a mutually beneficial arrangement," he said.


	91. Chapter 91

"You've both completely lost the plot," Nebula snapped. "We don't have trucks to spare of that size. We'd have to cancel other projects to do it."

"It's not imminent," Loki said soothingly. "It's a possibility. A lucrative possibility. Other contracts might have already elapsed once he gets off the ground."

She scowled at them and Thor felt a prickle of fear right on the back of his neck, a sense that something here was distinctly unsafe.

"You two," she said bitterly. "You think I'm blind. You think I don't see what's going on here."

Thor looked away. Despite it all, he did feel guilty that they were planning to leave her, plotting to abandon the business and take Lewis and Sam with them.

"You shan't take it from me," she said. "This is my business. You won't sneak it away under my nose."

He could hear the hint of relief in Loki's voice as he replied, glad to discover he wasn't the only one who'd been concerned.

"We have no intention of trying," he said. "We're just trying to expand. Besides, you know we wouldn't know the first thing about running it. That's your job. You're the boss."

"And don't you forget it. Get out of my sight. I believe you have a wedding to plan."

Lewis must have told her. She seemed to have even more of a guilt complex than Thor. Wanted to inform her employer of this new change of circumstance.

"I'm amazed you convinced her," Nebula continued as they stood up. "Though I understand. One little ceremony and the stigma is lifted, that's the idea?"

"Something like that," Thor said.

Though he very much hoped Lewis wasn't thinking of it like that.

He managed to track her down after Nebula dismissed them, looking for a quiet space where they could talk.

She was cleaning. Of course she was. She seemed to use it as a distraction, almost as a compulsion.

"You told Nebula about our..."

"Our engagement? That's the word, isn't it?"

Just the sound of that word felt heavy. Real. He had rushed into this with good intentions but little knowledge of what it entailed emotionally for them both.

"Well, yes, but..."

"You told Sam."

"But that was..."

"Am I not supposed to speak about it?"

That wasn't what he meant and he was almost certain she knew it. Of course, she might be upset about his accidentally letting Sam know before she had, but Nebula was different.

"No, that's... No, of course you can, I was just surprised that you mentioned it to her, that's all."

"I don't see why. We'll need her. Or Miss Gamora."

"Why?"

She flopped her dusting rag down on the table.

"What do you need for a marriage, Thor? Witnesses. We're going to need some. I was doing the groundwork."

Well, now he felt ridiculous. He found himself looking away, rubbing at the back of his neck, embarrassed all round.

"Not exactly how you imagined it, huh?" she said, voice gentler now. "Getting married."

"No," he admitted. "No, not really. I always thought I'd marry one if the village girls. Not even a specific one. Just... Someone nearby, I suppose. Emotion didn't really come into it, it was just what was meant to happen. Wife, children, work, death. How did you picture it?"

"Oh, well... I had it all figured out. Wait around long enough, a prince was bound to roll by and whisk me off to go live in his chateau. Because he was French. Obviously."

"Oh, of course."

She sighed wistfully.

"You don't... happen to speak French or anything, do you?"

"Not a word."

At least she chuckled.

"That probably would be asking too much. But we'll get by, right? We'll stay friends."

He hoped so. It was the least he could do.

"Do you remember, that night we met?" he asked. "You saved my life. Twice."

"Once," she protested.

"No, twice. Once from the man who attacked us..."

"Well, you saved my life from him too, probably. He'd have hurt me, for sure."

"And once when you took me to Loki. I'd have died without him. Frozen or starved while I kept looking for him in completely the wrong place. I owe you, is what I'm saying, and though I'm not a French prince, I do hope that I can be useful to you. Helpful. And I hope that you can rely on me."

She sniffed, but smiling with it.

"Well, who knows?" she said. "Maybe one day you'll save my life and we'll be even."


	92. Chapter 92

It was a tiny ceremony. That was about all there was to say about it, other than how difficult the licence was to obtain at relatively short notice. Nebula was perfectly happy to witness for them. It was just another transaction as far as she was concerned. And, of course, a promise that any work postponed for the Saturday ceremony would be caught up the next day.

Thor couldn't help but feel ill. He'd never been the most fervent of church goers, but it was difficult not to feel like a colossal hypocrite when standing before a priest, next to a Jewish woman he loved as no more than a friend, while they each had their lovers with them, and swearing to be faithful to one another for the rest of their lives.

Lewis... Darcy had dressed for the occasion. Apparently she'd spent much of her spare time in the previous few days altering an old dress Gamora had given her, shortening the hem and using the cut-offs to take it out to better fit her shape. And very beautiful she looked in it too, the pale blue setting off her hair and eyes. Thor wished he was better able to appreciate it and that he did not have a horrible ache in the pit of his stomach.

Still, it was done. They were legally man and wife. If he made it to America, it would be her right to go too.

"We should celebrate," Loki said as they walked back home.

"Should we?" Darcy asked balefully. "I think I'd rather just go to bed."

"It's your wedding day. There'll be plenty of time for _that_ later."

Thor could tell that she wasn't really in the mood for Loki's flippant remarks today.

"You don't have to," he said quietly. "It's your day, after all."

"It's our day, I think you'll find," she said, sighing. "But he's right. We should make the best of it. And I don't have anything else to do. If someone wants to cook for me, that's fine by me."

Well, there was a hint if he'd ever heard one. Sam wouldn't let him help though. He had clearly decided he was going to spoil Darcy rotten, try to lift her spirits a little.

He made all her favourites, playing to her sweet tooth in particular. Caramelised parsnips and onions, mild mutton (she preferred lamb, but Nebula favoured economising) and rich, creamy potatoes. Chocolate sauce over sweet cake bread. He had to have been planning this, getting his ingredients in secret, starting to bake the night before.

He was so thoughtful. Thor felt decidedly inadequate next to him. Not that Loki seemed to mind.

By the time they'd opened the third bottle of wine, he'd climbed into Thor's lap and was happily trying to feed him dessert despite his best efforts to resist for propriety's sake.

"It wasn't quite how I imagined it when I was a girl," Darcy said. "No family for a start. None of you know the songs they would sing. Or the little traditions."

"Traditions are overrated," Nebula said.

Thor wasn't so sure about that. Sometimes he felt he needed grounding in past things. Familiarity. A sense of history, repeating the acts of generations that had gone long before he was born.

"Are Jewish wedding nights much the same as other kinds?" Loki asked.

"I assume so. My family didn't ever really talk about that kind of thing."

"Hmm. Well, isn't that interesting, Thor?"

He'd regret drinking so much come the morning and Thor was regretting it now.

"Alright, you," he said, trying to ease Loki upright. "Time for bed."

"My thoughts exactly."

Thor rolled his eyes and threw apologetic looks around the room, trying to ease a gently swaying Loki up the stares, ignoring his sultry looks when he flopped on the bed.

"It's your wedding night, Thor," he whined. "You ought to have a little fun."

"Maybe in the morning. I'm tired."

"Liar," Loki whispered.

He didn't push it though, merely entwined himself around Thor's body, clinging onto him in the dark.

"Do you feel different?" he asked. "Being married?"

"No. I don't feel anything."

"Nothing at all?"

Thor sighed.

"Actually, I feel bad. She didn't have a choice. It's not fair."

"Well, that's hardly your fault."

Thor stared at the ceiling, the shadows of the curtains.

"I wish it was almost. Then she might... She might believe me when I say I'm sorry. Then I might be able to make it better."

"That's a stupid wish and you don't mean it. I know you. You don't want to hurt anyone."

"But I want to take away the hurt more. And I can't."

Loki hummed a little and kissed Thor's chest sloppily.

"I've told you before," he mumbled, poking Thor in the sternum. "Your heart is too big. Easily hit. Easily hurt. I could almost reach in and tear it open sometimes, when you're all sad about the plight of strangers. People you never have and never will meet."

"It hurts you too," Thor insisted. "I see it in your face sometimes."

"Mmm... Then I must relearn to hide my emotions."

Thor hoped not. He didn't think he could cope with trying to guess what Loki was thinking of.

Not again.


	93. Chapter 93

"The bridegroom awakes!"

Thor groaned. How was Loki so chirpy? If there was any justice, he ought to be horribly hungover.

"Come on, up you get. There's votes to be cast."

"Is that today?"

"Yes. And I'm breaking the habit of a lifetime and actually going out to exercise my right to vote. We'll be back before the office opens. Come on. Quick enough and I can give you a little post-wedding fun before Nebula needs you..."

He wasn't really in the mood, but maybe a walk to the polling office would change that.

"Remind me which party I'm to vote for."

"Please tell me you're joking."

Of course he was. The one that began with an S. Either SPD or SDP. Same difference probably.

He was all for variety and choice, but he had to admit the sheer number of groups and parties on the page was a little overwhelming. But he found the one he wanted. A neat little cross in the box. Doing his bit. Playing his part.

It didn't feel like enough and he said as much to Loki as they set off home.

"Little differences still count," he said. "For example, I believe we could each brighten the other's morning and begin the day with a little happy moment as it were."

"You really think we'll have time?"

"Had a sudden stamina boost, have we?"

Thor nearly shoved him into the road as Loki giggled at him.

"You've never had cause to complain before, as far as I know. In fact, generally I recall you having you panting and exhausted by the time I was done with you."

"I would argue, but we are in public. Some things are not for stranger's ears."

The tension fizzled between them as they returned home, Thor glancing at the clock in the hall.

"Twenty minutes isn't long enough," he said despondently.

Loki turned around on the stairs, pulling off his tie slowly. It had been Thanos's. Deep aubergine. Silk.

"Is it now?" he said, tugging on the fabric thoughtfully, wrapping it around his wrists. "And here's me feeling distinctly in the mood to be restrained."

"You're never restrained."

His eyes were on that tie, the contrast between the rich purple and Loki's skin, his mouth practically watering, fingers itching to compare the soft textures.

"Stop wasting time, then," Loki said, resuming his climb.

Thor followed, feeling a fool for it. He was going to be late, he knew.

But on the other hand, getting to wrap that smooth material around Loki's wrists, getting a smile and warm eyes as he tugged against it and found himself helplessly bound, at Thor's mercy as he rolled him onto his side and settled in behind him, nosing his way from his shoulder to his neck to make him shiver.

He had stripped him naked first and took his time, running a hand up his thigh and teasing his cock just a little.

At that point, he learned that Loki was able to separate his hands enough to clumsily stroke himself between the two of them. It didn't seem particularly effective and Thor watched curiously for a while as his frustration grew.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, kissing the soft spot behind his ear.

"Please."

Not yet. Thor carefully eased one of his thighs upwards, bending it at a right angle.

"Stay right there. One moment."

He expected whining, but Loki seemed to be enjoying the anticipation, his breathing heavy and with just the suggestion of nerves.

They wouldn't have time for proper preparation, but that wasn't what he had planned anyway, for all he was fetching the oil. No, he was just easing the way.

Loki hummed as he smothered his thigh in slick and eased its twin back into place, slipping his cock between them.

"Nostalgic?" Loki asked.

"Shh..."

His hand was suitably oily when he wrapped it around Loki's cock, taking care of his pleasure.

This was what he loved. Getting to feel as Loki clamped his legs together, creating a beautifully firm channel for him, his hips rolling gently, chest heaving already.

He was gentle. He eased Loki through it, enjoying the false sense of having hundreds of years to spend on this task, floating in the trust that allowed Loki to let him tie him up and take control. It made him feel intensely peaceful, even as his pleasure built, finally spilling over Loki's skin with a pleased sigh, watching as he strained and gasped and finally climaxed.

Thor would have loved to laze around all day, but work beckoned, needing a quick wipe down in the bathroom before he rushed along to the office.

He told Nebula he'd just been to the polls.

She sniffed loudly, clearly not believing him for so much as a second.

The next morning, the papers announced that their party had taken some losses, but just clung to the majority of the Reichstag.

It was rather overshadowed by the National Socialists suddenly moving into second place with 19% of the popular vote. Uncertainty hung in the air and Thor did not like it.

Not even a little bit.


	94. Chapter 94

Everything seemed to move quickly suddenly. The set-up of parliament was broken and the leading party was forced to form an uneasy coalition with the NSDWP. They had no other choice. Rejecting a fifth of the vote was not possible, it would be political suicide. But maybe being in coalition could water down some of the more extreme rhetoric.

Thor wasn't comfortable letting Darcy leave the house on her own any more. After the election, the butcher she favoured more often than not had men stood in front of it, quietly intimidating anyone who tried to go in. Thor eyeballed them every time their paths crossed. He did not trust this militarism, the way they wore a uniform of brown shirts in their everyday lives, marking themselves out to one another. Us and them, that was the atmosphere they sought to create.

You should not buy from this shop. It belongs to them. They are not us. They are not like us.

The men never actually touched them. He wasn't sure if they would dare. Their leader, for all his violent metaphors, insisted that they must remain above the law. As such, there was nothing illegal as such about their loitering, or the way they glared at anyone who walked past them into the business beyond.

He was fairly certain the slogans daubed on the wall more often than not surely came under some kind of damage legislation though.

The butcher and his family always seemed very grateful. They treated Thor like he was a distant relative, smiling, stopping their work and cleaning their hands that they might shake his. The news of his marriage to Darcy seemed to have got around the whole community and he couldn't help but be a little embarrassed by it. If they only knew the truth about their arrangement...

They didn't seem to mind that he wasn't really a man of faith, or that Darcy never went along to the synagogue. Everyone had to stay safe, they said. Don't keep giving us custom if you don't feel safe.

"Won't you go out of business if we do that?" Thor asked as the man wrapped chicken for them.

"I'd rather lose a hundred businesses than have anyone get hurt."

"No one will be hurt," Darcy insisted. "They're just trying to scare us."

She said that, but Thor knew her too well. She was frightened but determined not to show it. Her head might be high, but she did not look about herself. She ignored. She pretended not to see. And if that worked, there was little more to be said about it.

October seemed to pass as quickly as if he'd accidently turned two calendar pages and soon November days grew ever shorter. Frost began to make an effort in the mornings. Not making too much impact, but enough to make Thor's breath mist as he went to his meetings.

They had heard nothing yet from Stark and he tried not to worry about that. For a start, it had only been a few months. Perhaps his projects were still in the planning stages. The election results had been a little unexpected and the government's policy of forced deflation seemed to mean a great deal of uncertainty for business.

Loki kept trying to explain it to him. To avoid ravages of a similar style to the previous decade, the Mark was being deliberately manipulated. Wages remained low, but so did rents and social welfare. The latter worried Thor intensely. Low rents were good, but there was no money to help the growing numbers of unemployed people. They were abandoned. It didn't seem right to him.

It was worrying Sam too, it seemed. He came home from a walk one evening intently reading a flier he had been handed. Something about a meeting of migrant workers scheduled for the end of the week at one of the large dance halls.

"What kind of meeting?" Loki asked.

"I expect they might want to form some sort of union," Sam said. "Safety in numbers kind of thing."

"Do you think you'll go?"

"I'm a migrant worker, aren't I? Yeah, I'm interested. Just to hear what other people think."

Darcy didn't like the idea at all. She protested that there might be trouble, maybe violence, and no amount of Sam's soft, warm reassurances seemed to convince her. She'd been so vehement when she'd said no one would be hurt. Thor wondered what had changed.

Or maybe she had been lying before, trying to soothe everyone around her.

Either way, she stayed up later than she usually did, watching the clock as it ticked relentlessly, a piece of sewing limp in her hands as she waited for his return.

"He should be home by now," she said quietly.

"Perhaps he's made some new friends," Loki said, uncharacteristically unconvincing.

The sound of a key in the lock had her leaping from her seat and rushing to meet him.

The cry of shock that followed had Thor and Loki doing the same.

"It's not my blood," Sam's voice, still outside. "I'm fine. It's not my blood."


	95. Chapter 95

At first, Thor was afraid that it was just adrenaline talking and he might in fact be injured. He'd seen that during the war. Men insisting that they were fine even as they coughed up blood and had no hope left.

He moved on instinct, pulling Sam inside and sat him at the table, the pocket handkerchief he now carried habitually wiping the blood from his head and hands. No obvious wounds, but he was shaking now, a delayed reaction perhaps.

"Tea," Thor ordered, not sure who he was talking to but glad to see Loki seizing the kettle. "Deep breaths. Tell us what happened."

Darcy's chest was heaving, her face ashen, struggling visibly. She'd need help too, her shock and anxiety written all over her face.

"I don't know," Sam said. "It was... It was fast. I'd no sooner noticed them coming in and then people were screaming and running..."

"Who came in?" Loki asked, fetching mugs, spoonfuls of honey for sweetness while he waited for the water to boil.

"Brownshirts, who else? I... I think they knew we were going to be there. I think they planned it. I wasn't with the group, I was helping carry some glasses back to the bar and I'd barely turned..."

His voice cracked and that was awful. Sam was never hurt, was never scared. He was stronger than all of them.

"I tried to help," he whispered. "I tried to hold back the blood, but I couldn't and... We were scared in case they came back. We did all we could."

He put his head in his hands, evidently how he'd got blood there, the very image of despair.

"Drink," Loki said, putting his tea down in front of him. "Little sips. It will help."

He said it with such conviction that Thor almost believed it. The heat seeped from the china, heating his hands, too hot especially around his scars, but at least that was a distraction.

He didn't think any of them slept well that night. Certainly, he could feel Loki tossing and turning even in the early hours of the morning.

The news of the incident wasn't on the front page the next morning, but it was fairly prominent. Three dead, twenty injured, in a suspected political attack. Darcy seemed to have been forged into steel overnight, her teeth clenched and nostrils flaring with each inhale, like she was determined to increase the amount of air she was consuming, proving that she was alive.

"We need to leave," she said at breakfast, hand on Sam's shoulder as though holding him safe. "I'm decided now. Before it was just a fear but now it's here, now it's happening outside."

"We can't rush," Sam said. "Besides, they've broken the law now. They can't claim to have the upper hand."

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"The actions of a few, even if they can be traced to the heights of the party, can't be inferred as condoned by all of them. They'll deny it all. You know they will. Darcy's right, we have to move faster. But I agree. There's no point in rushing into a worse situation."

Thor was troubled, though he generally thought Loki and Sam had the right idea. Part of him wanted to simply take their hands and run for the ocean to sneak about the first available ship, but another wanted to hunker down, try to build a fortress for them all to hide in and wait for the rest of the world to come back to its senses.

"I should talk to Stark," he said. "Perhaps if I'm honest and open, he'll help us. He liked us, I think."

"Risky," Loki said. "But maybe our best first option. We need to bring that option to a head. If that door closes, we'll have to find another way."

"But..."

"What?"

He couldn't believe he was about to suggest this.

"Nebula and Gamora. Are we just going to abandon them?"

"How do you mean? Nebula has a successful business. We are hardly leaving her in the lurch. We'll explain. If there's one thing she understands, it's self-preservation."

"But... But what if something bad happens to them?"

"Like what?"

"They might be labelled political enemies," Sam said. "I heard about it last night. There's talk of imprisoning the Communists and the other smaller activists. Concentrating them in one space, you know. Probably won't happen, but... I get where he's coming from."

Loki looked between them both, frowning lightly.

"Are you suggesting we should take them with us?" he asked.

"I don't think they would come," Sam said. "Nebula is too stubborn for that. I don't think there's much point in asking. And no point in worrying about it either."

"But what if..."

"Thor..." and suddenly Loki was by his side, cupping his face in both hands. "I love you, but you can't take everyone you've ever met out of Germany. It's just not possible. I'm sorry."

Thor blinked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have rather awkwardly thrown Sam into a real historic event, though the information I could find on it in English was sparse (and a little confusing - I'm not even sure if the location was called Tanzpalast Eden or Eden Tanzpalast) but you can read on Wikipedia about [Hans Litten, the lawyer who cross-examined Hitler](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Litten) over the incident saying that his violent rhetoric was inciting violence.


	96. Chapter 96

"You've never said you love me before," Thor said, his hand almost too shakey to write with nerves at saying it.

"Is this really the time to discuss this?"

He'd waited for Darcy and Sam to be busy with other things before bringing it up. Frankly, he'd been very restrained. And he didn't want too much time to pass, he didn't want Loki to overthink it too much.

"You're not denying it," he pointed out.

"Well, I doubt there's much point, is there? You're not going to believe any clarification on my part."

What was there to clarify? He'd said it. Out loud. In front of others. A slip of the tongue, maybe, but...

"I'm just saying," Loki continued. "Not all of us feel the need to shout our feelings from the rooftops. Some of us don't feel like we need constant reassurance."

This was deflection. Thor was a little proud of himself for getting better at spotting it. Loki was trying to turn this back on him, to make it seem like he was the needy one, wanting an unnecessary level of articulation around emotion.

"You know that I love you," Thor said gently. "But I've never had that surety that you care about me in return."

Loki scoffed, folding his arms, staring down at the table as though it had insulted him.

"Of course you have," he said. "You feel it. I know you do."

"Alright, yes. I might believe that you care, yes. But that's not the same as knowing you do. It's... It's hard to explain. I don't need you to say it all the time, just... Just maybe once or twice, from time to time would be nice."

"Well, I've said it once. There you go."

He was so fractious and Thor only realised why with a shock. He was embarrassed. He had discovered that he did in fact believe in love and didn't want to admit that his position had changed. Didn't want to admit that he'd been wrong or... Well, not wrong as such, just mistaken.

"Alright," Thor said again. "You're right. You've said it once and it's your right if you ever want to say it again or not."

He turned back to his letter, unheaded paper, only Stark's name and address written at the top.

"Is that it?" Loki asked, incredulous.

Thor shrugged.

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Why aren't you arguing?"

"You've made your position clear and I accept it. It's fine. You don't have to say it if you don't want to. Especially if you're not totally sure."

Loki huffed and pouted and frowned and left the room. Thor would follow in time. He knew he would. After he'd completed all his tasks for the day.

_Dear Mr Stark,_

_My apologies for writing unexpectedly, but my brother and I would dearly like to meet with you at your earlier convenience. Sorry for the ambiguity, but I feel discretion may be necessary._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Thor Odinson_

He carefully blew on the ink to dry it, folded the paper into neat thirds and slipped it into an envelope. The whole thing had an air of ritual about it, like he was trying to cast a spell for their safety.

It lay before him, never out of his mind as he made his way through the other items of correspondence that Nebula had given him to deal with that day, barely taking any meaning from the words as he replied mechanically.

He did find himself feeling a little mechanical. Like an automaton, wound up and going through the motions until finally he could go to fetch Darcy and walk with her to the post office.

She flicked through the pile of letters until she found the one for Stark, pressing her lips to it as though to add her own wishes for luck into its very fabric. Once upon a time, she'd have left a dark red stain, but now her face was always scrubbed clean. Make-up drew too much attention, she said.

Maybe in America she could paint or not paint her lips without a thought of what anyone else might think.

He would like that, he thought. To see real confidence in her and not the forced, brittle strength she presented to the street as the walked together, arm in arm.

"Do you know any prayers about letters?" he asked.

"Not specifically. But I'm praying in my head all the same."

It was a strange idea, Thor thought sometimes. Surely God would be weighed down by all the demands put upon him. Millions of voices all at once...

Still. Couldn't hurt.

Godspeed, he thought as the envelope was stamped by the postmaster and passed back for delivery. And tried not to think about how little he deserved such mercy when adultery and incest and lying with another man loomed so soon in his future.

Perhaps eventually Heaven gave up and stopped counting sins.


	97. Chapter 97

Loki was frowning and pouting and generally looking a little bewildered. Thor didn't really understand, but he tried to. Loki's assumptions of his own beliefs had been challenged. Or he had let a secret slip accidentally. It was no wonder that he was a little shaken.

Therefore, Thor pretended all through dinner that nothing had changed, that he hadn't noticed just how quiet Loki was or the way he was clumsy with his cutlery.

And he definitely wasn't going to mention how Sam sensed the tension and politely excused himself with the flimsiest excuse.

Loki took himself off to bed while Thor washed up and, thinking perhaps he needed that space, set about cleaning everything else. The kitchen was spotless by the time he went upstairs and found Loki apparently engrossed in the day's newspaper.

His eyes were barely moving though.

"Anything interesting going on?" Thor asked.

"The police have no news on those stabbings at the Tanzpalast," Loki said vaguely. "I don't think they're even looking for witnesses."

Troubling, certainly, but not a concern for the moment. The police were overstretched and underfunded. They would get to it, he was sure. He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for Loki's leg, stroking his calf gently. A little shiver ran through Loki, the paper flopping onto his face.

"Don't," he said quietly.

Thor drew back instantly.

"Don't what?"

Loki sighed, the tissue-thin newsprint fluttering against his cheeks.

"Don't act as if nothing's happened. You don't want to fuck right now, not really. You want to try and make something of it, some grand gesture to tell me it's all alright, that you accept me no matter what and that you don't care if I love you or not as long as I'm happy..."

"I don't. All I want is to please you."

A groan.

"Don't, Thor. Can you not see? This puts it all on me. It's like there's a division between us that I can't breach. You're all gold and good and noble, letting me ride roughshod over your heart with just the promise of occasional crumbs of affection. What does that make me? How callous and cruel must I be to make you live like that? Why can't I just get over myself and just admit how I feel, why can't I give you that?"

"I don't need you to."

"Yes, you do! Maybe you don't mind now, but I see it. I see every time you feel that little stab when I can't respond correctly to your declarations of love. I see you crafting your own narratives and explaining away my approach and it hurts because I know one day you'll wake up and realise you've been mistaken and then you'll hate me."

Thor laughed. He couldn't help it. He'd never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. Loki peaked out from beneath his paper shield witheringly.

"What do you think the likelihood of me ever hating you is?" Thor asked. "When you think of everything we've been through. The Magpie, the way you lied to me, using me in your act while I was confused about my emotions, having to watch you touch other men..."

"How exactly is a list of my failings supposed to make me feel better?"

"Because we got through them all together. And we both know I'm not blameless in this. How many times have you forgiven my jealousy or stubbornness? How many times have you put up with me just... being needy or ridiculous and had to talk me round to sense?"

Loki pouted, but did finally put the paper aside as Thor lay down facing him.

"I know it's hard to believe," he said softly. "But I really don't mind if you don't want to say it. It matters to me that you believe I love you. I don't need you to say you care about me because I feel it every day, I see it in the way you behave around me. Even if it's not quite in the same way that I care about you, it's just as strong."

Loki couldn't meet his gaze.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said. "But I don't know how I feel. I don't... I can't put it into words I'm comfortable with. Not fully anyway. It's like... It's like I'm speaking a new language and I don't know all the connotations yet. I worry about how you interpret what I say and what I do and..."

Thor gently stroked his hair back behind his ear, thumb stroking his neck.

"It's alright," he insisted.

Loki sighed and closed his eyes.

"God, I hope so," he murmured.

A moment's shuffling and Thor was able to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Loki seemed to melt into it, body arching forward for more contact.

"My head is too full," he said. "Would you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"Making me stop thinking. Taking me out of my head for a while. Tiring me out to help me sleep, warm and safe with you?"

Thor pressed their foreheads together, wanting to touch everywhere.

"I can certainly try."


	98. Chapter 98

Loki's neck arched, his mouth open around a silent moan, gasping for breath. Thor loved the sight of his teeth like this, glinting, so white against the blush of his lips.

He'd taken his time getting them to this point. He was determined to out-perform, to truly make Loki unable to think of anything else.

He'd begun by slowly undressing him, laying kisses onto newly revealed skin, running his tongue along ribs and down invisible lines, tasting the goosebumps and the shivers before focussing on Loki's nipples. They were so firm against his tongue, like fresh berries. He loved the feeling of gasping breath, of Loki's fingers in his hair, the taut muscles as he tried not to thrash too much.

This was a time for Loki's favourite things, for caresses and care, but also a time to deny. He wanted Loki to be in a frenzy of need before he climaxed. Quite how he would achieve that, he'd play by ear.

Ears that were filled with quiet moans and little whispers that he almost couldn't make out, pleas for more, he thought. Alas, Loki's chest - though delicious - was only the beginning of what he wanted to do.

Loki watched curiously as he kissed his way down the centre of his chest and stomach, down to skirt around his navel and inhale the warm scent of the hair there, letting out a little whine when Thor ignored his leaking cock.

"Spread your legs for me."

"Take off your clothes first. I want to see you."

His shirt hit the floor, Loki smiling as he playfully stroked his own chest, showing off before standing to rid himself of his trousers and under things, his cock thick and heavy. Aroused by Loki's arousal.

"Now?"

He sighed happily as Loki slid his thighs apart, skin whispering against the sheets, almost like he was shy. Probably as he'd guessed what Thor had planned next.

The first pass of his tongue over the furled muscle had Loki only just holding back a cry. His hips rolled, like he was offering himself for some sacrifice, for all it was a naked plea for more. Thor took pleasure in humming against his flesh, teasing with the very tip of his tongue one moment only to use the flat the next, feeling as Loki gradually relaxed enough for him to press inside.

"Hah... Mmm... Oh, Thor, yes..."

His own cock was throbbing as he dared to glance up, finding Loki gently stroking himself, eyes closed, not a trace of embarrassment. It spurred him on to see Loki taking this pleasure so freely, glad that his scant inhibitions seemed to no longer get in the way.

It was a little surprising when Loki seemed to squirm away though. Had he done something wrong? Gone too far? Thor shoved his hair out of his face just in time for their little bottle of oil to hit the bed next to him.

"Please," Loki said. "I want you."

Voice raw and aching and beautifully true. Thor could hardly have denied him even if he'd wanted to. Instead he made an effort to warm the slick with his hands before being generous in its application.

It was almost easy. Loki was tense with desire but loose from Thor's attentions, demanding and needy, just the way Thor had hoped. His whole world needed to shrink, just for a while, and it seemed the only thing he had knowledge of was the way Thor's fingers stroked him inside and the want for them to be replaced by his cock.

Had it been a while? Not since they'd had sex, of course, but sex in this way, with Loki lying beneath him, breathless and yet still wanting more, throwing his head back as Thor finally eased his way inside.

His fingers clutched at Thor's back holding on as he began to move, gently to begin with, smoothly.

"More," Loki panted. "Harder..."

It wasn't difficult to acquiesce, speeding up until the air was thick with the sound of skin on skin, little cries escaping Loki's lips with each thrust. Thor wished he could draw it out more, that he could hold Loki here on the edge, but he knew he wouldn't last. 

He had to push himself up to reach between them, stomach slick, finally giving Loki's cock some real attention. A gasp, a moan, no words now, not even eye contact. Loki's face was twisted with pleasure, hands fisted in the sheets and Thor worked him closer and closer to completion.

"Come on," he managed through gritted teeth. "Come on, Loki."

With a cry, it was over. Loki spilled across his hand, going limp, chest heaving and shiny with sweat. Thor pulled out only to add to the mess on Loki's skin a moment later, collapsing into his arms. They could get cleaned up in the morning.

"How do you do that?" Loki whispered. "Fuck me hard and make it feel so gentle?"

Thor didn't bother answering.

They both knew the answer.


	99. Chapter 99

Thor hadn't expected Stark to come to them unannounced, but suddenly on an otherwise unremarkable Tuesday, Darcy came rushing upstairs to tell him that he was down in the parlour talking to Loki.

Nebula wasn't using him for any specific purpose as such, but her eyes narrowed immediately.

"You didn't tell me about this," she said pointedly.

Thor coughed a little awkwardly.

"It might not come to anything," he said. "I didn't want to burden you with it if it was nothing."

She didn't like this. She'd probably like it even less if it worked out the way he was hoping. Still, she let him go. He tried not to feel guilty about that.

Loki had turned on the charm, eyes bright, smiling. He was practically batting his lashes. Thor tried to remain calm, tried not to let it show that his heart was racing. Darcy arrived with a tray of tea, visibly excited, a blush on her cheeks. Thor prayed she was right to be.

"So your note had me worried," Stark said, stirring milk into his cup. "Is there some kind of problem?"

"You could say that," Loki said.

Thor sighed and took a deep breath.

"We want to be honest with you, sir," he said. "The truth is we were rather hoping you could help us emigrate to the States."

Stark looked back and forth between them for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood. You want me to help you move to America? Why?"

Why, indeed? It seemed like the best idea in a hopeless world but they would likely need something more persuasive than that.

"Let me be frank, Mr Stark," Loki said. "My brother and I have... a complex history. You know how fractious our politics are at this time. Just last week, our housekeeper was witness to murder. We are afraid. We're concerned about what will happen to us if we remain here. If we were to leave, to go somewhere no one knew us, we could start again."

"And how do you propose I help?"

"We cannot go to a new country with nothing waiting for us. We have been thinking about your talk of needing a transportation branch in your country. We could run it for you."

Stark laughed, a strange, brittle sound.

"You want me to give you jobs? Do you know what the unemployment rate is in the US currently? Why would I employ you over men sleeping in the street?"

There was no answer to that. They were not more deserving than those others.

"We are desperate," Loki said. "You hold all the cards here."

"I mean, for a start, you think we're so politically stable? We have the same problems you do. And there are murders everywhere."

"Not like this," Loki said, hands gripping his knees. "Believe me. I lived through the lowest vice of the Weimar, I have seen crime and murder in many forms. It is not like this. I feel we need to move on as a matter of urgency. My brother's wife is mistreated in the street for her faith and ancestry. We fear for her especially. You must have noticed the tension."

He was looking at them with steely eyes. Thor wondered if they had overstepped the mark. He ran a business, not a charity.

"I sympathise," Stark said, rubbing his forehead. "I really do. But I can't do anything to help you. I can't just create jobs that don't exist."

Thor felt his heart sinking. They needed this. He couldn't bear having his hope crushed. And they would have to tell Darcy...

Loki laughed. It was such an unexpected sound that Thor almost jumped.

"We're not asking you to," he insisted. "We're asking you to contract us to work for you. You don't need to give us work as such, we just want to work for you."

"Slow down. This is my third language."

"Pay us pittance," Loki said. "All we want is to be able to write something true on the emigration forms, that we have work waiting for us."

Stark sighed.

"I want to help you, I do. But why should I do this for you? You, specifically? If things are as bad as you say, there must be thousands of people in need of help. You're a drop in the ocean. It would hardly be making a difference."

"It would make a difference to us," Thor said.

There was a beat of silence, Thor almost holding his breath.

"You know I can't just do this from nothing," he said. "My father would never stand for it. You'll have to prove yourselves to me first. This is a business decision after all."

Prove themselves? What did that mean?

"Work with me for a while. I'll see what I can do once I have evidence of your work ethic. Something to argue with."

"How long is a while?" Loki asked pointedly.

"Depends how long the project takes. I wish I could do more for you, but my hands are tied. I'm sorry."

It wasn't what they wanted, but it was something. With any luck, it would only be another few months. Thor looked to Loki for confirmation, a little nod before he reached out to shake Stark's hand.

"I really wish I could do more."

"We're grateful. We really are."

Or at least he was trying to be.


	100. Chapter 100

"It's something," Loki said later with Sam and Darcy looking at him beneath worried frowns. "He owes us nothing, after all. We should be thankful."

"Oh, I am," Darcy said. "It's just... I hoped for something more solid, that's all. I'd given him a magic wand in my head, like he'd just whisk us away without a thought. You'd have thought I'd have grown out of fairytales by now."

It was difficult for all of them, Thor felt. They had to plan their next moves carefully. And that meant it was his job to deal with Nebula. Really, he would prefer Loki to do it, but he insisted that was impossible.

"She doesn't trust me. You have a far more reliable nature. She'll listen to you and form a compromise, but she'd shut me down immediately and we could be out on the streets if she took it badly."

"Should I tell her we plan to leave?"

Loki sighed lightly, shrugging.

"You'll have to. We can hardly keep it secret until the day we go for the boat. But emphasise the fact that we'll keep sending her money. This is not an abandonment, it's an expansion."

"She won't believe that."

"I know. But it's a little sweetener at least. Appeal to her humanity."

Thor wasn't quite sure how he was keeping a straight face saying that. And it didn't help that he was unwilling to offer any further advice.

"No, no, if I tell you what to say you won't sound like you. She'll smell me all over it. As opposed to now, when she just smells me all over you."

Thor couldn't even raise a smile for that. He was too worried. He kept trying to rehearse what he could say, how he could face the dragon of her temper and come out without getting burned.

Not that he had to bring it up. She'd been out at meetings all afternoon after they'd spoken with Stark, so he had managed to escape her attention, but there was no mistaking her agenda from the moment he opened the office door the next morning.

She watched him like a snake, like she might strike at any moment and leave him dead.

"I'm sorry that we may have appeared underhanded," he began. "But please believe me that we are not trying to harm the business in any way. In fact, we hope to find a way to make this beneficial for all of us."

He did his best to explain the plan, how they were going to work for Stark in Germany for a short while before he helped them emigrate. How they would keep paying her a kind of stipend.

"It will be in dollars," he said. "Separate to any fluctuation in the Mark."

She snorted.

"Well, I certainly am glad that you've learned at least a few business terms to parrot at me, even if you clearly don't fully understand them. You want to leave Germany then? Why?"

Humanity. Appeal to her humanity. She did seem to have a genuine fondness for Darcy after all.

"We think it will be better there, for Darcy and Sam. You know how people talk about them. And Loki and myself, well... This is a chance to move away from our past. Every day, I worry that the next man through this door will be someone who knew us from before. Even if they wouldn't dare speak of it, they would know what we had to do to survive and... This is a chance to be free of that shame at last."

Her raised eyebrow made him think she didn't believe he had so much as a drop of shame in his veins, but she sighed, running a hand through her clipped hair.

"You're making this difficult for me," she said. "You're proposing to take most of my household halfway around the world and undo our arrangement. However... I have been thinking for some time that I would have to let your wife go."

Thor frowned.

"Why? I thought she was good at what she does for you."

"Oh, she is. Quick and efficient and seldom asking questions. But I can't go on with new business contacts forever asking me about the ethnicity of my secretary."

"They don't do that, surely."

"Only one or two of them, but yes. They have made their allegiance known. And therefore it makes then question me and my judgement, even more so than just due to my sex. It would be nothing personal. Business is often unfair."

He hesitated. This felt almost like permission.

"So we may go?"

She sighed.

"I don't like it, but I feel I know your brother well enough to know that if I fail to agree to this now, I shall wake up one day to find you gone. This is my best option. Besides, having a foothold in America could be useful."

Thor flinched when she held out her hand for him to shake.


	101. Chapter 101

Loki seemed to believe he'd won a victory and Thor was happy enough to accept that assertion. They were a little more concerned about her description of a foothold though. What was that supposed to mean?

"She's aware that the atmosphere is changing," Loki said soothingly. "She loves options. It's an option to have part of her business, however small, placed overseas."

"So she'll come and join us?"

"Who knows? Maybe. If it all goes downhill here, she'll have something to fall back on, untainted by any failure. It makes sense."

It did, he couldn't deny it. Which now made Nebula the least of their worries.

Stark could only offer them a reason to emigrate and the promise of at least some work when they arrived. For a home, they were very much relying upon Sam and his contacts.

He kept receiving letters in the morning and sighing, writing increasingly angry-looking notes in response.

"Do they not have the space?" Thor asked one day, up early and grinding coffee.

That was the biggest problem he could foresee. Four adults was a significant influx to any home, especially for a family already living on top of one another.

"Well, no, but that's not their real objection. Don't take this the wrong way, but they're suspicious."

"Because we're German?"

He couldn't blame them. They had so recently been enemies so he could quite understand if lingering doubts troubled them.

Sam laughed bitterly.

"If only... No, they have no problem with Darcy as such, but they really question the, er... intentions of two white men. They think you might be dangerous."

Thor was stunned. That hadn't even entered his head. Of course, they were strange men, so perhaps it went without saying that...

"Don't take it personally," Sam said, misinterpreting his silence. "They'd think it of any of y... Of anyone. You're different. Different is worrying."

"But they're your family, aren't they? Don't they trust your opinion?"

"They're..." he sighed. "Technically. They're my wife's family. I don't really have any family left."

Thor tried not to let his shock be too evident. Sam's past was a closed book and he had respected that choice. To have it suddenly open in front of him was unexpected.

"You've... You never said."

"Well, I don't like to talk about her much. She, er... She was never very well. I couldn't exactly call it a shock when she... When she died. We were childhood sweethearts, I guess. After my father passed, my mother and I went to live with the neighbour and eventually I married the neighbour's daughter and..."

"And now you're asking them to take in you, your former employers and your new... And Darcy."

Sam sighed again. It seemed to be all he could do.

"It's temporary. I've told them - truthfully - that she's your wife. I just... I can't do that to them, I can't tell them the truth. You know... They might feel like I'm replacing her. As if I could find another Ruthie."

The way he smiled when he said her name. The sadness in his eyes. Thor wanted to know more, but he wasn't going to press for anything just in case. Even old wounds were sometimes raw.

"Does Darcy know?" he asked instead.

"Of course. She knows all about it. And she knows I love her just as deeply for all they're very different. Not entirely different though... There's a sort of deep kindness in both of them. But it's difficult. We're going to find it hard to find somewhere we can all four live together. I was hoping to buy us some time."

"Buy what?" Loki asked, coming into the kitchen yawning.

He listened carefully to Sam's explanation, lips pursed, nodding occasionally. Without a word, he stood and left again, feet rushing up the stairs. Thor could only shrug in response to Sam's queries until Loki reappeared, placing down a pair of shining pearl earrings.

"Send them those," he said as the others stared. "A thank-you in advance."

He finally glanced at Thor and his accusing expression. Where had he kept those hidden away?

"Oh, don't look surprised," he said. "I kept a few good pieces from my Magpie days, just in case. In case of a rainy day. I can feel the first drips now, can't you?"

Thor made a mental note to discuss this later and turned back to Sam.

"Will it help?" he asked. "I don't want to insult them by trying to buy our way in."

Sam picked up the earrings and turned them back and forth, examining the sheen.

"Well," he said. "I'm sure it won't hurt to send a gift."


	102. Chapter 102

Loki obviously expected his questions. He didn't even let Thor ask them, reaching out to press a finger to his lips before he could so much as draw breath when their paths crossed later in the day.

"After dinner," he said. "I promise."

And so Thor held his tongue until they were in private and Loki was pulling out the spare blankets from beneath the bed. He beckoned to Thor as he carefully pulled up one of the floorboards and revealed a bundle concealed beneath it.

Thor could do little but gasp when he opened it. Glittering, shining jewels. Not very many of them, but a fair few. A ruby brooch, an emerald ring, gold chains...

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Thor asked.

Loki shrugged, but looked thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Do you know what insurance is?"

"Of course."

"Well, this is my insurance. In case the business went under. In case Nebula threw us out for some reason. In case anything."

Thor pulled out something dark and shining from the little pile. A stole, black fur of some kind of stoat.

"I understand the jewellery," he said slowly, holding it up. "But what of this?"

Loki took it from him and looped it around his shoulders, the fur blending with his hair, effortlessly suiting him.

"Just a little sentimentality," he said, half into the fur. "Something I earned. A little reminder. And it looks well on me, doesn't it?"

Something was troubling Thor, for all he wanted to pull Loki close and tell him that everything looked well on him, especially nothing at all. He had to get it out or it would just worry him.

"Did you keep this from me in case we... In case you found being with me impossible?"

Loki's frown told him he'd said something unwise.

"Why make it all my decision?" he asked. "What if you had suddenly woken up and decided all this was a mistake?"

"I wouldn't. I won't."

The look on Loki's face was enough to break his heart. Not distrust or contrariness, but resolution. Like he'd given up arguing but still wasn't actually convinced.

How many more times was he going to try to change Loki's mind? It didn't help. He'd probably be convinced that Thor was going to leave him even when they were old men, grey and wrinkled and toothless.

There was no point in trying and he didn't want to have the same argument again. He had his answer. It was what he expected. He could beg for no more.

Loki carefully unlaced the stole and retied his bundle, sighing.

"Well, you asked..." he said, sliding the board back into place.

"And you answered. Thank you."

He might not want to argue, not out loud, but reassurance came in many forms. He waited until they were in bed and the light was out before rolling onto his side.

"Come here?"

Loki shuffled nearer, laying his head on Thor's chest. His breath was warm even through their sleep clothes. Thor carefully wrapped his arms around him, rubbing a knot from his shoulder, gently leaning forward to kiss the very top of his head.

"Is that it?" Loki asked. "No grand speeches?"

"No. It's a phobia you have. An irrational fear. I can't talk you out of it, so all I can do is hold you and hope one day the fear goes away."

There was a pause, just their breathing filling the air. Thor had almost fallen asleep when Loki spoke again.

"I'm not a child scared of the dark. I don't think I am likely to grow out of it."

"Well, I am not likely to grow out of loving you."

A giggle. A nuzzle. Nothing was as sorted as Thor would want, but it seemed as close as possible.

"We're going to have to dip into the insurance, I think," Loki said thoughtfully. "To buy trucks for Stark's contract. And I think we ought to learn to drive them ourselves. It's a good skill."

"Whatever you think best."

He grunted as Loki pushed himself up, staring down at him in the dark.

"Are you just agreeing with me because you're sleepy?"

"Ask me in the morning."

The huff didn't seem to have any malice in it, though having Loki once again snuggling into his chest would have made him forgive almost any petulance.

He just heard Loki saying something about "unbelievable" before sleep took him.


	103. Chapter 103

"Be careful!"

"I'm being careful!"

"Well, be more careful!"

Thor's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. He'd used engines before, in a previous life, but the huge processing machines on the farm had nothing on the enormous beast he was now in control of. And he'd had all his fingers then. Now his left grip seemed painfully inadequate to control this rumbling old truck.

They had four of them, bought as almost scrap but rebuilt from bits and pieces, old rusted components removed and replaced. It had cost a lot for both parts and mechanics, Sam's expertise not quite stretching far enough, and Thor worried, but Loki kept reminding him it was an investment. These vehicles would help them move on.

If they ever managed to learn to drive them.

The engine made hideous crunching noises as he wrestled with the stick for changing the gears. Left foot down and then move and slowly...

A sickening lurch and then a sudden stop. He had moved maybe five yards in total.

The only satisfaction he had was that Loki was similarly inept on his first attempt, eyes flicking back and forth at the dials in front of him as if they might hold clues to success.

He was horribly embarrassed when Stark arrived to take a look, the sheen of his car making the rusted trucks seem all the more obviously old and battered. But to his surprise, he announced them to be beautiful and demanded to be allowed to test one.

Thor watched the way his hands moved enviously. The engine responded to him, purred to him and smoothly came to life. A knack perhaps, but more likely a skill.

"Horses of work," he said, grinning. "Back from the dead by the looks of them, but that's fine. They'll suit us well. Have you driven before?"

Loki might have lied, bluffed his way through it, but Thor felt it would be obvious if he did. And he wanted Stark to trust him. Desperately, he wanted that.

"Never," he admitted. "And it is not as easy as I hoped."

Stark laughed, but in a friendly way, without malice.

"Machinery is by its very nature unnatural," he said. "It's not like walking or even swimming where you control all the forces. It's something to be learned. I can teach you. It's not a problem."

He was as good as his word, patiently taking them through the basics all afternoon until they were circling the streets around the scrapyard with something resembling confidence. Thor especially enjoyed watching Loki as he took every step individually, his braking a little sharp from nerves, but the look of concentration positively endearing.

"You'll get there," Stark said. "Once you've got a few miles on the clock, as they say. Practice makes perfect."

Thor sincerely hoped so. The distances they were due to cover were not overly long, mainly taking supplies from west of Berlin round to the eastern side, but going around the city instead of through it was the main difficulty.

Of course, they had to register the vehicles, get all the documentation and paperwork and prove themselves capable to drive before that. Applying to be tested, practising their little loops, braking, changing gear smoother and smoother. It took two weeks of intense work, but by the end of it, Thor was almost sure that they could really do this. They could really drive.

At least, he thought so until they tried to take the monsters home. There were stables, of a sort, tacked on to the back of the house, but they had been designed for a few horses and the occasional small coach, not the size of motor vehicle they were trying to squeeze down the alleyway toward it.

"We'll never manage to turn them around," Thor said. "Not in a million years."

"No matter," Loki said, probably not as cheerfully as he was aiming for. "We'll just have to go backwards."

At least they had a few days before they had to resort to that.

Nebula seemed somewhere between impressed that they had pulled this off and utterly horrified by the ugly machines they were using.

"Thank goodness no one will know they connect to me," she said. "That's all I'm saying."

"They'll bring you good money," Loki retorted, patting the front of one like it was alive.

"I should hope so. More trouble than it's worth, all this."

Thor tried to convince himself that she was wrong. Risks were inevitable, so they ought to meet them on their own terms.

Darcy in particular had made it her role to think of everything they hadn't.

"You'll need to take blankets with you," she said. "And tools for basic repairs. You're going to go further and further away and I don't trust those things to keep going without a little help. If you need to sleep in it, you'll thank me for being warm. And you'll need to take food too. Just in case."

She was right, of course, but part of Thor thought it sounded fun to be out in the open, a blanket, some packed food, the patter of rain on the metal roof, Loki curled in a blanket next to him.

"Oh, you would," Loki said when he mentioned it. "Just so you know, if we do end up sleeping in one of those cans, I fully intend to press you into service as a mattress."

If anything, that made it sound even better. Thor found himself eagerly waiting for the days to lengthen, spring 1931 finally coming to life with the start of a new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out Germany introduced mandatory driving tests way earlier than I expected them to.
> 
> Also, I'm picturing Thor and Loki driving something similar to the late-20s Volvo trucks, so an enclosed cab with an attached trailer. They look like pick-up trucks, not that big, but big enough to move stuff around.


	104. Chapter 104

Thor was nervous on the first day they set off. Even the comfort of two of their regular bicycle couriers, ones who already knew how to drive, leading the way, he was nervous. This truck was effectively a large, metal death machine. It had been a long time since he'd had one of them under his control.

He looked at the people passing by, the children stopping to point at these trundling behemoths, and swallowed hard. A slip of his hand would spell disaster.

He felt much safer once they were out of the city and heading to pick up their cargo, even if the more experienced drivers were keeping up a higher pace than he would have preferred.

It was comforting to be able to look into the little circular mirror on the end of its stalk and see Loki's truck behind him though. He felt like part of some larger being like a huge metal caterpillar, or like one of a herd of very well-behaved cattle. They moved as one through field and forest, finally coming to the right place as marked on Loki's maps plotting the best routes. They were to collect the wooden sleepers for use on new railway lines.

The smell of freshly cut wood felt strangely wholesome, so different to the smell of the city. Even loading the trucks with the help of the sawmen felt good. It reminded Thor of moving hay around, of heavy lifting on the farm so long ago. He'd grown his first muscles doing such work. If not for a hundred twisted circumstances, he could have yet been doing it.

Loki did not share his views, picking up the huge pieces of wood like they might bite him, questioning the men about splinters and vigorously shaking his arms out afterwards. Avoiding the pain caused by straining, he said.

Thor was quite looking forward to having the aches of a good day's work.

Driving the truck once laden was a completely different story to driving it empty, however. They were slower, to Thor's relief, but it was like trying to steer a great sailing ship using only a pillowcase. Turns look longer, braking became a battle that made hideous squealing noises. He'd have to have that looked at, he thought, but at least the lack of speed helped.

It took hours. He knew it would, of course, but found himself entering a kind of trance state. It was the same feeling he had back in the army, hours and hours of steady marching. Forward, forward, ever forward.

He knew exactly why he was thinking of those days. Moving the sleepers had started the memories in the back of his mind, the sight of those huge pieces of wood for railway building. They'd been dragged along to where they were needed in Russia, the smell of pitch thick in the air as they struggled to keep it hot enough to coat the timbers without it splitting.

The echoes only grew louder when they arrived at the current site, having to nurse their trucks across scrubland in the tracks of other vehicles.

The workers seemed in good spirits, chatting and laughing together. It helped soothe him, the weather too, the whole scene so different to his slave labour and all the things he'd crushed down into little boxes at the back of his mind to be moth-eaten and never turned to.

Even still, he found himself a little chilled. He half expected to know the face of every man who turned to look at them. He expected them to accuse him. He had been the one who talked of surrender, he had lead them to this, lead them to death...

"Are you alright?"

Loki's voice summoned him out of his thoughts as usual.

"Of course," he lied.

Loki frowned lightly and Thor got the feeling he would be quizzed later. But there was work to be done, and that helped too. There was no time to dwell on his guilt while dragging huge chunks of wood out of the back of the truck and helping pass them down to a huge pile.

It was different. These men were glad to have work. No doubt they would soon trundle back down the track itself to their families with money in their pockets, food on their table. This was a place of hope. Security, progression. So far away from his old memories.

They came back to haunt him once he was back in the cab of his truck, lighter and easier to handle. Those men who had died out in the tundra and yet he lived. And now, he and Loki were making steps towards escaping the very country, leaving completely. Was it the same thing again? More self-preservation? More abandonment?

Would he one day feel guilt for this too?

He didn't know how long he'd been stewing in such thoughts before he realised Loki's truck had disappeared from the view in his mirror.


	105. Chapter 105

Thor tried to remain calm. They had talked about this, how old the trucks were, how they might break down at any moment. It was probably nothing. Still, he scolded himself as he squeezed the loud horn and waved out of the window to make the others stop. He should have been watching. He should have been more careful.

After a few hundred yards, they found a safe place to stop, Thor leaping down from the cab and trying to keep his voice steady.

"Loki, he's gone... I didn't see where he went... Should... Should we go back and look?"

He could sense their reticence. Wives awaited, children... They didn't want to be stuck out here.

"You go on ahead," Thor said. "Tell Sam we'll be back soon, just a minor delay probably."

Or so he hoped at any rate as he eased his truck backwards onto the main road and started heading in the opposite direction to home, watching as the other trucks vanished behind him.

He was alone. For the first time in so long, truly alone. He could neither see nor hear another human being. It put a stab of anxiety through his heart, a sense that if something happened out here, he could be left for hours before anyone came.

It just drove him to find Loki all the sooner, changing gears like the stick held the key to that and breathing a heavy sigh of relief when he rounded a corner and spotted him sitting beside his truck, looking lost and despondent.

He didn't say anything, just stopped and leapt from his cab to yank Loki into an embrace.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Loki said, voice muffled against Thor's chest. "I'm fine."

"I was so scared."

Loki laughed at him, but fondly, even letting him glance around to ensure they were truly alone before giving him a quick kiss.

"I just pulled over to piss and then the silly thing wouldn't start again," Loki said, stepping back. "I think it needs more fuel or something."

"Don't you have a can in the back? I thought Sam put one in."

"Yes, but the engine was too hot. I'm just letting it cool off. Honestly, I'd have been fine. I'd have caught up."

Even so, Thor was much more comfortable sitting with him as he waited, watching clouds pass overhead. It could have been anything that had happened and Loki could have been stuck out here, all alone. He couldn't even bear to think of the worst case scenario.

"When's the last time you were by yourself before this?" Thor asked suddenly.

"This morning, after you went down to breakfast."

"No, I mean... I mean all alone. No one else around, no one in the house."

Loki frowned, drawing patterns in the dirt with one finger.

"Well, if that's your measurement, I've never been alone before. There were always people in the old house, always people on the street, always people in Thanos's house, always people in the cabaret, always people around now. You and I have different views on what counts. I consider myself alone as soon as there's no one else in the room."

That made sense, but it wasn't the same as the crushing sense Thor had had of isolation.

"Were you scared?" he asked. "When it wouldn't start?"

"No. Why would I be? I could have hunkered down with my blanket and managed until someone came back for me. You wouldn't leave me out here. There was barely anything to worry about."

The more he spoke, the less Thor could explain his terror, his fear of loss. Loki was right. The logical position was the one that said he'd been in no danger.

"You're just on edge," Loki said soothingly, rubbing his shoulder. "New job, new experiences. Plus the sight of railway building has probably stirred something up."

Thor ran a hand down his face. He didn't want to admit it, but Loki was right. It had woken up old guilt and mixed it in with current fears. He knew exactly why he was feeling like this, but that didn't make it feel any less real.

Loki watched his face carefully for a moment before standing up, wiping the dust from his hands on his trousers.

"Come on," he said. "I'm sure it's cooled enough now. You'll feel better when we're back on the road and especially once we get home."

It was a relief when Loki's truck finally spluttered into life, though Thor made him drive in front where he could keep an eye on him.

And sure enough, by the time they pulled into the alleyway behind Nebula's house, an hour or two late and in the dark just for good measure, his fears of the day seemed like silly childish nightmares.

They'd done it. They'd made a whole delivery from start to finish. And therefore, they could do it again.


	106. Chapter 106

He got used to it surprisingly fast. The gentle rattling of the engine, the smell of it, the feel of the wheel beneath his hands. Stark seemed pleased with their work, offering them further smaller contracts along with the main rail one. Moving broken stone for road-building, fuel in drums to power the machines, even water butts for cooling and for the working men to boil up into coffee.

Sometimes, on the smaller jobs, only he and Loki went. It was strangely comforting to travel around together. Thor found himself singing old, half-forgotten songs, not even caring that he was likely out of tune or getting the words wrong. Sometimes, on the wind, he even thought he could hear Loki singing back to him over the rumble of the trucks, though he always denied it if questioned.

In America, when they were settled, once they had built something of a life, he wanted to buy Loki a piano. A small one. Something he could re-learn on. He could already picture it, Loki and Sam playing together in the evenings, neighbours not even bothered by the noise since their skill was so high.

Of course, it wasn't always the most idyllic job. The trucks tended to break down at the least opportune moments, in the rain or when they were already running behind schedule or both, leaving them to sheepishly roll up to sodden and grumpy workmen. At least they always helped to load and unload. He felt that was appreciated.

He noticed the change in Loki. The way the heavy lifting had added new coils of muscle to his arms and back. He loved to trace the faint line at the edge of his bicep with one finger, even as Loki squealed and protested that it tickled the soft, warm flesh of his inner arm.

Spring rolled into summer, the fields around green with who knew what, heavy breezes carrying the air of far off places. On clear days, Thor would look out to the edge of the horizon and almost wonder why he wanted to leave such a beautiful land.

And then he would go home to Darcy and remember.

She grew more anxious by the day. It seemed the paper always held another story of businesses destroyed or damaged, people attacked or murdered. He couldn't tell if she stayed inside because he was frequently not there to walk with her, or if she was afraid to leave at all and only went with him to pretend she wasn't.

He knew she felt caged though. She walked the house like a prisoner, captive in her own home, obsessively cleaning individual items over and over again, as if she could calm her racing thoughts with enough soap and water.

And yet, of course, they all knew they were extraordinarily lucky. The streets teamed with the unemployed and destitute. Loitering was supposedly illegal and yet the police could do nothing to stop people standing outside work places, hoping and praying for a day's employment. Even Nebula's operation was besieged by men offering to do anything for work, eying Sam suspiciously as he calmly readied the bikes in the yard. Darcy stayed away from windows and didn't seem to notice she was doing so. They all lived with the fear that one day, suspicion might overflow into violence.

Gamora was in the house less and less. Thor saw her once on his way out of the city, beside a carriage drawn by a sickly looking horse. "Donations for Veterans and War Widows" was painted in a faded sign on the wood, though he expected it was really donations for anyone.

He helped her empty wardrobes of Thanos's things to give away when Nebula was out. He was hardly coming back for them and Thor felt he and Loki had already taken too much for granted. A pair of sturdy shoes could be a lifeline for someone in need.

Banks failed as crowds of people flocked around them, desperate to withdraw funds that weren't there. A bank run, Sam called it. Loki shrugged as though glad at least some of his money was secreted about the house instead of entrusted to one of the smaller, more vulnerable establishments. He had an account, but with the national bank, the only one that seemed stable, if only just.

No confidence, people said. We have no confidence in this government. They have run us into the ground, bowing to the wills of foreign powers, allowing them to blame us for the war. There ought to be a new election so we can get rid of these incompetents. Thor could understand the viewpoint, but he certainly couldn't see a way out of this mess. All of Europe was in economic crisis and no one knew how to get out of it.

And the promises... Yes, a car for every family would give a new sense of freedom, but a home for every family would be a better start.

As other businesses folded, Nebula seemed glad at least that Stark seemed determined, even out of some philanthropic urge, to employ people. To lay roads and lay track. He was almost single-handedly keeping her afloat.

"I'd have thought those roads must already have reached beyond the borders," she said one day, drawing up the month's totals. "Wherever is he trying to get to?"

"I haven't asked," Thor said.

"You know, I'm never sure if that's a benefit or a detriment. You know how to keep secrets, but you seem to have no natural curiosity at all."

He shrugged, pretending she hadn't piqued his interest. He'd assumed the roads and rails were merely transport links. Improvements to the old trackways, which functioned well enough but benefited from being turned into proper routes and expanded into the new Autobahns. The idea that there might be specific destinations in mind was interesting.

"Of course there are," Loki said, frowning at the paper as usual. "Berlin to Potsdam and Bern and Munich and Dusseldorf and all the other big cities. It's been needing done for a long time."

Thor looked at the maps of their routes and tried to see how the squiggles matched up. Sometimes they made sense.

Other times they seemed to go into the middle of nowhere.

It reminded him of the country as a whole. Sometimes sensible, endeavoring to set things right and find solutions. Other times, apparently determined to plunge into the wilderness.

"How long before we should ask Stark again about emigration?"

Loki sighed, laying down his paper, an opinion piece about the treachery of foreigners blaring from the page.

"I expect he may start to feel a little heat himself soon enough," Loki said. "After all, it is his homeland made richer from our war repayments, even if rich and richer is extremely relative these days."

Thor tried to feel hopeful about that. If Stark decided to return to the States, surely he would honour his word and help them too.

But he couldn't help worrying that when such people, people with ideas and drive and hope, began to abandon Germany, things could only get worse.


	107. Chapter 107

Getting an actual meeting with Stark was surprisingly difficult. He was frequently about the place, overseeing work or making changes to schematics, but getting to speak to him in any kind of privacy seemed impossible.

Eventually Thor decided he'd have to ambush him, or at least ensure he had a moment to spare.

He sent Loki off home after their delivery, more comfortable driving alone now, and waited by Stark's car. He was guaranteed to come this way and probably be by himself. And Thor was not willing to leave before he got an answer.

"I thought you left for home a while back."

He'd very carefully not been leaning on the red paintwork of the car, knowing it wouldn't be appreciated.

"I need to talk to you about the future. About our agreement and if it still stands."

Stark sighed, so different from his usual confidence. Sheepish almost.

"I'll be honest, I've kept an eye on you and Loki. You seem happy. I thought... I thought maybe you weren't so keen on moving any more."

"With all due respect, you thought wrong. You must know of the backlash against people from overseas. Perhaps you've experienced it yourself. When you go back, please don't forget about us."

"Look, Thor, you have to understand, it's not just me. My father..."

"Please."

Stark sighed again and held his hands up, like in surrender.

"You're right. We had an arrangement. And you work hard for me, you're reliable. I'll insist he give you a try."

"When?"

"When do you want to go?"

When? Well, when? Soon. They would need to sort out their affairs, but essentially they could leave at any time.

The thought of it was frightening. It was what he wanted, yes, what they had hoped and prayed for, but the idea of leaving still somehow felt very final.

"As soon as we are not needed here," he said. "How much longer do you think the project will take?"

"We should be finished well before winter. You could be in New York by Christmas."

He had seen pictures. He could imagine Loki twirling in the snow in the great square. Walking among the tall buildings with hope in his eyes and ice crystals in his hair, going home to Sam and Darcy.

Of course, it was unlikely to be so idyllic, but still.

"Thank you," he said, hoping it sounded as sincere as he meant it. "That puts my mind at rest. And my wife's."

He was especially glad to have something concrete to tell Darcy when he puttered home. It was wonderful to see her face light up. Her initial joy quickly became a strange kind of melancholy though.

"It's just a strange thought," she said when pressed. "Leaving Germany. I've never even left Berlin. I'm scared almost. But a good scared. Excited scared. It does... It does make me feel like I'm abandoning my family's home though."

He knew what she meant. His mind had been drifting to the old village a lot recently. How were they coping with the crisis? Was farming relatively stable? Were there better roads being built there by the boys he grew up with?

"If you'd like, we could go for a drive on a Sunday," he suggested. "First time out of the city. If you want. Just to see the mountains."

"Not yet," she said. "But before we leave. To say goodbye to Germany."

He knew exactly where he would take her. Out to a hill top where she could see for miles, through the earthy sweetness of the pine forests to inhale the rich, damp smell, to the river before it entered the city and was weighed down by the detritus of people.

It was so soon. They had no solid date, but every day, every mile of road and rail built took them closer and closer. He found himself thinking of packing. Thinking about the ship. He'd never been on a boat before. It would be quite the adventure.

Sam began trying to teach them some basic English, phrases they might come across in work and in shops, trying his best to soften the confusion surrounding irregular verbs, of which there were so many. Thor liked to practise as he drove. To go, goes, went. To be, is, was. To have, has, had.

Loki knew more verbs than him, of course, but only filthy ones and only in the present tense. To be fair, 'to suck' at least had other uses, but Thor couldn't see it coming up in conversation too often. He did like hearing Loki's tongue moving around unfamiliar phrases though, even if Sam rolled his eyes and refused to tell him what most of them meant.

All they had to hope for was an uneventful few months.

He should have known better than to curse himself with even the thought.


	108. Chapter 108

The worst thing was just how unexpected it was. Loki set out in the morning with one of their drivers with nothing unusual about anything. Thor was spending the day in the office with meetings and correspondence to work through.

Around mid-afternoon, he heard the familiar rattle of an engine and thought no more about it. He still had several letters to sign. The sun was shining, the warm air was very pleasant and he was rather looking forward to the walk to the post office.

It was the way Darcy looked at him from the doorway that made his heart clench hard, the look of fear and pain as she held out a note to him. The words hardly made sense, the meaning refusing to penetrate his brain. Loki, accident, hospital...

It felt like a dream, his feet carrying him downstairs so quickly he almost felt he flew, Darcy by his side as he rushed towards the tramlines.

A hospital. His only knowledge of such places was from tents on the battlefield, the stench of death and the cries of the dying echoing around while gunfire still raged nearby. The idea of a real building was foreign to him, the fear of what he would find making his heart sit in his throat.

Darcy took his hand and squeezed it. He looked down, unable to make sense of anything, not even how she had ordered her muscles to press down and that had awoken sensation in his skin. He knew he ought to be comforted, and yet his body seemed to be going numb.

It was an imposing building. He could say that for it. A palace of healing. A cathedral for the sick.

And there, in front, Stark's car. He must have driven Loki here, must have taken care of him. Thor's heart swelled with gratitude, glad also that such emotions were the first to permeate his mind. Good things. Keeping out the fear.

The desk near the front door was staffed by an almost distressingly calm woman. Didn't she realise where she was and what had happened? Couldn't she read the fear in his face?

Still, she was efficient, pointing them along the corridor, the smell of humans mixing with the smell of forced cleanliness in a way that made Thor lightheaded as he tried to hurry without actually running.

And finally, _finally,_ there was Loki, flopped on a hospital bed with his leg cast in paster and raised on a sort of pulley, his modesty protected by a thick sheet.

A thousand endearments leapt to Thor's lips and had to die there unsaid as Stark spotted him and stood up from a chair by Loki's bedside, hurrying to talk to him.

"He'll be alright," he said immediately. "They've patched him up and estimate eight weeks to full healing. Don't worry about the hospital bills, it's taken care of."

Thor blinked at him, desperate to rush to Loki's bedside and hold him but distantly aware that he ought to say something.

"Thank you," he heard Darcy say. "But we will manage, you don't have to do that."

"I do. His leg was broken on my watch, it's my responsibility."

"What happened?" Thor asked, voice flat. "You said in your note an accident, but what exactly...?"

"He was helping to unload the sleepers as usual and something... Something slipped. He went down and it fell on him at a bad angle. Clean broke both the lower bones in his leg."

Thor winced at just the thought. The pain must have been excruciating.

"I should have been there," he said, even knowing he'd have been no help. He'd have been far too terrified, far too distressed.

He could tell from Stark's polite expression that he quite agreed.

"They pumped him full of painkillers while they put everything back in the right place, so he's quite sleepy and confused. But he's going to be fine, they say."

Thor found himself nodding, meaning to shake Stark's hand in thanks but instead pulling him into an embrace, unable to properly express his gratitude and getting an awkward pat on his back.

"You drove him here," he said, feeling ridiculous.

"Smallest I could do."

Darcy's fingers laced into his, pulling him away and over towards the bed where Loki was lying, looking so peaceful for all that his lips looked bitten. Trying to get through the pain no doubt.

There were no words for the rush in Thor's veins when, as though sensing his proximity, Loki's eyelids fluttered open. He looked around, perplexed as to where he was, staring at his immobile leg and then finally focusing on Thor.

"What have you done to me?" he grumbled and Thor couldn't help but laugh in relief.

Nothing like pouting to convince him that all would be well, in time.


	109. Chapter 109

It took a long time to make Loki understand what had happened. That he'd had an accident and was in hospital and his leg being bound was not some strange whim of Thor's but necessary for his recovery.

And, of course, it was difficult to convince him that he couldn't come home just yet. Thor was glad that Stark had left in a flurry of good wishes and apologies before Loki started trying to flirt his way out of hospital.

"But you don't understand," he purred at the nurse who came to assess him. "I need to go home. This bed will be too cold with just me in it."

Thor was terrified that he might say something too strange, or that someone would notice that he was unwilling to let go of Thor's hand, but the nurse just rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't worry," she said. "People say the strangest things in this situation. Claiming they've never met their wives or talking about impossible things. We had a young man once who wanted to go home to look after the cow he was sure he had. He lived on the third floor! Silly, really. We just keep them calm until their heads catch up with reality again."

Thor was glad that such calm and experienced and crucially non-suspicious people would be taking care of Loki, but he was still extremely nervous about leaving him, even after he'd fallen asleep once more, mumbling to himself.

"Don't let him think I've abandoned him," he begged. "Tell him I'll be back as soon as possible."

She promise she would, but Thor didn't quite feel it was enough, pressing what he hoped was a brotherly kiss to Loki's forehead before heading out with Darcy by his side.

"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," she said quietly. "If anything happened to Sam, I... I don't know what I'd do."

"It could have been worse," Thor said, more brightly than he felt. "It's a bad fracture, but clean. He'll be home soon, and healed and back to normal before we know it."

That's what he kept telling himself as Sam and Darcy fussed over him through dinner - a rare event as Darcy excused herself from Nebula's table where he got the impression she ate and acted as a sort of waitress.

He kept telling himself that it wouldn't be for long as he finally dragged himself upstairs to a bed that felt too big and far too empty. The wrinkles in the sheets, the marks of where Loki had lain, dark strands of hair on white cotton, such little things had such meaning to him.

He ended up cuddling Loki's pillow, trying to inhale enough residual scent to keep his mind from wandering off towards horror in the night.

It didn't work.

_In his dreams, he sprinted through the hospital rooms and could not find Loki anywhere. He ran up and down unending stairs as the rumble of engines blended with the hideous whine of machine gun fire._

_"Where is he?" he kept asking. "Where is my brother?"_

_Doors opened into tents, into the backstage space of the cabaret, into Nebula's house, all of them filled with beds and in the beds..._

_Ronan moaned in agony, a livid bruise upon his jaw, blood vessels broken by his irises. Thanos's cold, unblinking eyes watched him as he passed. Fandral pointed as he ran by, frozen blood on his fingers, his lips blue._

_Thor burst through another door, heart racing as he found himself at home, back home in the village, his parents sitting together on an oversized version of the recovery bed, their skin grey and stretched thinly over protruding bones._

_"Where is your brother, Thor?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"You were supposed to take care of him."_

_He fled their accusing gaze and ran upstairs to their old bedroom, certain he would find Loki there as he always was, the door locked and unyielding even as he slammed his body into it over and over again..._

He woke more exhausted than when he'd gone to bed, blankets and pillows strewn about the place.

He wondered if Loki had also passed an unpleasant night and then scolded himself for it.

Sleeplessness wouldn't help him get better.


	110. Chapter 110

"I'm so bored!" Loki moaned, pouting and flopping his arms helplessly.

Thor nodded sympathetically, wishing he could do something better to help than just giving Loki the newspaper as something to read. He hadn't been sure just how much stimulation would be appropriate. Loki's eyes were shadowy from a disturbed night and he was visibly in pain when he tried to sit up a little straighter.

They'd had to remain apart from each other during the day, of course. Thor had sent two of their drivers to pick up Loki's truck and tried to figure out how they were going to keep to schedule without Loki able to drive.

And his distraction hadn't exactly helped with planning and logistical matters. He kept watching the clock in case the business day might suddenly speed up and end and let him rush along to the hospital.

"Are they treating you well, other than the dullness?" he asked.

"Well, they try," Loki said. "They bring me food, they keep me clean. I'm more modest than I used to be, so that is a special torture all its own, but I suppose it can't be helped. And they've seen it all before. They'll send me home as soon as they're sure I'm healing properly and I can get used to perambulating myself around on crutches."

"Well, Darcy says she'll commandeer one of the reception rooms on the ground floor to be a bedroom for you."

"Alone?"

It was a risk to speak so openly. Then again, anyone listening might assume Loki had a wife. One who was sick perhaps and couldn't visit.

"We'll see," Thor said.

Loki sighed, eyes falling shut.

"I've been trying to entertain myself by looking forward to what I'll do when I'm home. I won't be able to move much. But that just means someone will have to take good care of me."

"I will. I promise."

Loki smiled, looking tired. He really did need rest by the looks of it. Thor didn't want to leave, but sleep would help him heal.

"What do you want me to bring tomorrow?" he asked. "Books maybe?"

"Mmm, yes, please. Exciting ones."

"Alright. I'll let you sleep. Get better."

Loki grabbed his wrist and held him in place, eyes flashing open and giving Thor a look of intense meaning. He brought his hand to his mouth, pressing his lips along his index finger and raising his eyebrows.

Thor frowned lightly as he copied before realising what Loki was doing.

A kiss carried on their fingers, conveyed as they clasped hands. A little secret. Thor found himself blushing, like he was being romanced for the first time.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can't wait."

It was hard to walk away, even if his heart felt a little lighter to know that Loki was at least mostly back to his normal self.

"You know he's going to have you wait on him hand and foot?" Darcy said as she supervised Sam and Thor dismantling the bed so they could get it down the stairs.

"I don't mind," Thor said. "And besides, I'm not always here. You're going to have to handle him during the day."

She gave a theatrical shudder. It was good to see her brighter. She had suffered a slump a month or so ago after the court case into the stabbings at the Tanzpalast came to nothing more than a handful of manslaughter convictions.

"They didn't even call it murder," she'd said bitterly. "They don't care. That could have been Sam. It could have been anyone in the wrong place at the wrong time. The courts are supposed to provide justice."

Nothing had placated her, but now that they were in late summer and the end of the road and rail projects were in sight, she had definitely grown happier.

It made Thor a little uneasy despite himself. What if Loki didn't heal quickly enough? What if he wasn't ready to travel when the time came?

He decided to mention his worries to Sam over dinner. After all, his calm and practical nature would help. He'd know what to do.

"Well... If it comes to that," he said thoughtfully. "Then you and Darcy should go on ahead. I'll stay behind and go with Loki afterwards."

Thor swallowed hard. He couldn't mash the potatoes the same way Loki could. It was different and he didn't like it. Of course, maybe he was just imagining that because Loki wasn't there, but the effect was the same.

"You'd have to be away from Darcy," he said uncertainly.

"I'd rather I knew she was over there and safe. I'd rather know you were there looking out for her. And I hope you'd trust me to look out for Loki."

He would, of course he would, but only intellectually. His heart wanted to cling to Loki as closely as possible, not end up on a boat continents away from him.

"It probably won't come to that, though," Sam said, stirring the gravy.

"I hope not," Thor said. "We should stick together, the four of us."

They nodded at each other and tried not to worry.


	111. Chapter 111

They kept Loki in hospital for longer than Thor thought was really necessary, probably happy enough to keep taking Stark's money. Thor spent two weeks trying to pour himself into work, trying to get through all the transporting as if nothing in their schedule was questionable.

He took Loki books every few days. He seemed to have struck up a friendship with one of the other men on the ward, in with suspected paralysis, and read to him out loud. It was uncharacteristically open of Loki to engage with a stranger outside of a business relationship. Thor had half expected him to have the curtains around his bed shut all day.

However, by the time his release day came, his friend had been moved away to another ward and he seemed quite glad to be leaving.

"Two weeks with not even the slightest respite," he murmured as Thor accompanied his slow progress down the hall towards the exit. "I've been so frustrated and snappy, you wouldn't believe it."

Thor believed it very easily, not that he would say that. At least he'd had his hand during the separation. At least he'd been able to clean himself up and not had to rely on a stranger for it.

Even Nebula came out to see him come home, Thor gently supporting him as he hopped up the front steps and only just resisting the urge to carry him to his bed. He knew Loki. For all he would enjoy the attention and being fussed over, he liked to be independent. He wouldn't like to be cosseted.

It was a celebration of sorts, Thor thought, to have Loki back in the kitchen, cheerful and animated for all he was having to sit sideways to accommodate his leg.

"Proper food!" he said gleefully, excited by simple things like carrots cut in batons and not circles or green beans cooked in butter.

"Anyone would think they'd starved you," Thor said.

"Not starved. But fed me blandly. Food for sick people, you know. Porridge was quite the staple. Besides, I need energy to heal. Well known fact."

Thor laughed louder than was probably necessary. He couldn't help it. He was thrilled to have Loki back. He felt as though he'd been cold for a long time and suddenly the sun had come to warm him.

Quite literally, by the time he was helping Loki into sleep clothes and easing him into bed, the huge damask curtains of the parlour closed to the outside world, a strangely large room to be taking as a bed chamber.

Loki gazed up at the light fitting, the space where a chandelier once hung before Nebula sold it. Thor was actually glad it was no longer there. It would have made him nervous to lie beneath one.

"Have you been sleeping down here long?" Loki asked.

"Week and a half, I'd say. We weren't sure how soon you'd be home. I wanted everything to be ready."

Loki smiled at him, the pillow like a halo around his head as Thor went to turn out the light. He had to feel his way to the bed and into it, his hand brushing against Loki's skin, stunned by his warmth.

For a few moments, he just wanted to hold him, to inhale the smell of his hair, to absorb the heat from his body, slipping his hand under his nightshirt to feel his bare skin.

"I've missed you," he said, half into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm... Me too. But I've had an exciting day and I'm sleepy so I'm afraid I must insist that you move your hand a little southwards..."

Thor laughed against his skin.

"Greedy."

"Starving."

For all his teasing, Thor was so happy to do this. So happy to please Loki as best he could. He'd been through a lot, been through such pain and boredom that it was only right to give him a treat now.

His flesh rose instantly at Thor's touch, sighing, definitely in need of relief and release. There would be time for play and suchlike later. For now, his role was clear.

Loki panted and sighed, one hand gripping Thor's shoulder as he stroked faster and faster, waiting for that little half-choked cry he knew so well.

He came hard and fast, gasping for breath, Thor's hand well and truly coated in spend as he shuffled upwards to be rewarded with kisses.

"Thank you."

A chuckle and a hum.

"Always a pleasure."


	112. Chapter 112

Three days of looking after Loki during the day and Darcy was at her wits' end. He could move himself around happily enough and hand a bag around his neck to carry books or other objects, but he couldn't carry anything liable to spill and that frustrated him immensely. He couldn't so much as take the pan with him from the sink to the stove to boil for coffee, let alone carry a cup away with him.

As such, he was annoyed and therefore annoying as he tried to find diversion and distraction whenever he wasn't trying to sleep.

"You need to take him with you," she said. "Maybe out in the countryside, he'll at least have something to look at."

"I can't. The juddering and shaking could damage his leg."

"Well, then you need some means of entertaining him. I don't mind getting him drinks and so on, but I'm busy. I have too many other things to do and Sam does too."

Things Loki liked to do that he could manage sitting down...

Well, a piano would be ideal, but where was he going to get one of those?

Maybe temporarily...

He sought out Gamora. He knew sometimes her charity work did house clearances. Perhaps they could borrow an instrument while Loki was healing. Give him something to do, something stimulating and familiar.

"A piano?" she said in disbelief. "We give away furniture, or sell it."

"I don't doubt it, but just on a temporary basis. Just until he heals. Then we'll give it right back, I swear."

She seemed doubtful, but promised to keep an eye out.

In the meantime, the best Thor could do for Darcy's nerves was keep Loki relaxed and happy.

His means of doing this were rather limited by the huge chunk of plaster on Loki's right calf, but he was determined not to let that stop him.

In fact, the most troublesome thing was Loki instinctively trying to move, trying to buck up into Thor's mouth for instance, even though he was not supposed to put any pressure on his leg at all.

"Lie still," Thor said. "Let me take care of you."

"Well, much as I enjoy such a pleasant awakening, I can hardly be blamed for unconscious movements."

Thor sighed, resting his head against Loki's thigh.

"Might I continue?"

"Well, your heart is hardly in it, is it? I can finish myself."

"But my way means less mess..."

"Very true."

Thor took that as permission to bend back to his task. It was an awkward angle. He didn't want to try moving the cast so he was lying sideways across the bed, feet kicked up behind him.

"I know... Mmm, I know what you're doing you know," Loki said breathlessly.

Thor hummed a question. He should hope Loki knew what he was doing, he wanted to say. He did it often enough.

"Trying to sedate me with orgasms."

Ah, yes, that. Thor glanced sideways as he bobbed his head, Loki's fingers tightening in his hair but very definitely not moving his hips.

So at least he was trying, but Thor couldn't deny he was glad when it was over. The tension was horrible. Loki looked down at him and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just... I don't like the idea of you servicing me like this. If you want to do these things, fine, but don't do them because you feel you have to just because I'm injured."

"Is it helping at all?"

Another sigh.

"Physically, yes. I'm sure there's some kind of pain-killing property to it. But it makes me feel quite the burden. You trying to keep me happy so I'm not such a terror to everyone else."

"I enjoy making you happy."

"But you can't deny you're doing this so often because you feel you ought to. It doesn't come from your desire. You haven't done yourself in days, let alone let me do it."

"I just haven't felt like it, that's all."

Which was true. He was too tired, too worried at the autumn air starting to creep in, and though he didn't doubt a little relief would help, he couldn't find it in himself to go to the effort of it.

"Well, then don't touch me again until you do. I enjoy doing this with you. Not by myself with you there. You're going to be late. Give me a kiss."

At least from the reaction, Thor supposed he was present in this at least.

He couldn't deny being troubled though, both by Loki's words and the fact that he couldn't truthfully refute them.


	113. Chapter 113

Gamora couldn't find a piano. Thor knew he shouldn't have hoped so much as to be disappointed, but he couldn't help it. Especially as Loki had made him painfully aware of himself and his emotions and when he was letting his worries get in the way of even simple intimacy.

Some days he was there, or deemed to be sufficiently present in the moment and they would lie side by side, arms crossing over as they stroked each other, heads to the side for gentle kisses.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me," Loki murmured. "I know you're scared to until I get the cast off, but I like thinking about it."

"The very day they remove it."

"Only three weeks to go."

Time was both his friend and enemy. Every day brought Loki closer to being healed. His little exercises from the hospital were going fine, able to wiggle his toes and so on. He was going to be largely unscathed.

But in turn, every day brought them closer and closer to the rail and road project being finished. From what he had gathered, Stark had the contract for the area immediately surrounding Berlin. After that, he would hand over to another group. They might use the same workers but equally might not and Thor got the distinct impression that he was not the only one with concerns about the approaching end.

Stark didn't understand, commenting on his melancholy bearing one day.

"When it's finished, I'll write your reference letters for immigration. I've managed to convince my father that I have a good team coming, family business like ours. It's exciting, no?"

"Of course," Thor said, forcing a smile. "It's just that Loki's so cooped up at the moment."

"Sorry, I don't know cooped."

"A coop is the place chickens live. You know, small, enclosed..."

"Right, right. Are you worried he won't be well enough?"

Yes. No. Both. He was worried that in leaving Loki in the house all day with little distraction, he was beginning to listen to all those lies he told himself about one day their love falling apart out of the blue and that was making him nervous.

Of course it was ridiculous to promise forever, but... Actually, was it? People pledged themselves to one another every day. That was what marriage was. Darcy wore a ring now, a symbol of their fallacious commitment to one another.

Maybe that was something to think about. Some small piece of jewellery that they each could wear, a little private promise.

Though no doubt Loki would tell him off for being sentimental and frivolous. He had plenty of jewellery, but such things were assets, not for actual wear.

"I just worry that if there is some delay due to his recovery, it will depress him, that's all. His boredom makes him restless, but that will pass. I'm a true worrier, that's all."

Stark smiled at him and patted him on the back.

"We should be done in under a month. Take all the time you need. I can stall the projects in the US until you're there. It's mainly planning over winter anyway."

Thor was grateful and said as much, but he didn't want to delay any more than necessary. He could not ask Darcy to wait for one thing. And the idea of men wanting work being kept from it on his sake? That didn't bear thinking of.

"We've been trying to do this for years," he said. "Had plans right back before the crash scuppered everything. And now it's finally happening."

"Overwhelming?"

"A little. I can still scarcely believe it."

Stark laughed. Thor liked his laugh. It was very open and proud, always seeming to invite the hearer into the joke.

"Book your tickets. There's nothing like physical proof to convince even the most doubting mind."

Yes, but for when? Should he take the chance that Loki would be healed in time? He needed him to drive one of the two trucks they intended to take with them, the other two staying with Nebula as an apology gift more than anything else. So should he delay...?

"I don't think I'll be convinced until we're in Harlem," he said.

"Harlem?"

"Yes, our friend Sam has some family there. They've very kindly agreed to take us in, just until we find our own place."

"That is kind of them. Very kind."

He could tell Stark was a little surprised by their choice of area, but he didn't mind. At least he wasn't saying anything unpleasant. Thor felt he would have been crushed to hear something like that from someone he admired.

As it fell, fortunately enough and as predicted, they needed longer to finish the project than Loki needed to heal. To some extent. The doctors confirmed they could remove the cast, but he still needed some recooperation. He could walk, but he had to be careful.

Eight weeks of not using his leg at all had a strange effect. Loki's calf had grown thinner. The muscle was still mostly there, but it would take time to get back to normal strength.

He laughed at Thor when he got emotional just at the sight of him walking around. No more crutches. No more struggling and having to be brought every little thing, no more having to wash carefully in the sink. He could even help dismantle the bed and take it back upstairs.

"I believe a promise was made," he said as they made their way downstairs again. "After dinner, perhaps?"

"I think you'll find I promised nothing."

Loki stopped him, spinning to halt his tracks and pouting at him.

"Maybe not in so many words," he said. "But I know a promise from you when I hear one."

Thor grinned at him and pulled him into a kiss, all passion and tongue.

Who needed jewellery?


	114. Chapter 114

Despite having received such warm reassurance, Loki was determined not to let it go. He was flirting outrageously all during dinner, batting his lashes as they discussed buying tickets for the Bremerhaven boat with Sam.

"I can't believe it's happening," Sam said, grinning.

"Mmm, I know," Loki purred. "There were time I never thought we'd see the day."

They were not talking about the same thing and Thor was sure they all knew it. Still, he pretended to be ignorant and innocent of Loki making eyes at him.

"Four adults and two vehicles won't come cheap," Sam said. "Especially since we'll need three cabins. I'll be down in third class no matter what."

"We'll be there too," Thor insisted. "It's only five days. I'm sure we've all been through worse."

Even Loki took a moment to reflect on that.

"It's not bad," Sam said. "The food could do with more salt, but that's about it. Who knows, maybe they've even sorted that since I came over."

"We go to the bank," Loki said, counting tasks along the table with his finger. "We get what's left of our money there, close the accounts, combine it with any other funds we have, order the tickets and we're gone by the end of November. It'll be cold, but we can cope with that."

So soon. Thor still couldn't believe it. He knew he wouldn't feel comfortable until they were legally in the States though. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that somehow something would go wrong. Something was bound to go wrong. Why would their luck change now?

"But for this evening, I'm tired," Loki said, blatantly not tired at all. "And I think we should go to bed."

Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled at them. Typical Loki, charming even when he was being incorrigible.

Thor felt the strangest urge to sweep Loki into his arms and carry him up the stairs. He didn't think he would manage all the way. Besides Loki would object to being treated as a rail sleeper.

Instead he had Loki walk up the stairs in front of him so he could get a good look at a sight he'd missed over the last two months.

Not that Loki was happy with looking and not touching, stopping halfway up to bed and leaning just a little forwards, looking back over his shoulder.

Thor chuckled and laid both hands on the warm, soft flesh offered to him. Loki immediately span round and slapped him away, making him startle.

"What kind of man do you think I am?"

A flash of confusion later and Loki was running up the stairs giggling, inviting Thor to give chase.

And chase he did. As he always would. Catching up as he made it to the doorway, attacking his neck with kisses until Loki melted into his arms.

"That's better," he said, hands moving of their own accord to undo his clothes as he walked him into the room and kicked the door shut.

Loki squirmed and wriggled immediately, forcing Thor to hold him still.

"Is this what you want?" Thor asked. "Want me to hold you down?"

"Mmm..."

"Was that a yes?"

He was being very cruel, reaching into Loki's trousers to tease his cock, deliberately making it difficult to think straight.

"Well, was it?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Ask me. Tell me what you want."

"Nngh, Thor... Please... Oh, please, fuck me."

"Is that all?"

"Be rough."

Thor stopped instantly, not sure he'd heard correctly, getting a whine of protest.

"What?"

"Be a little rough with me. Just a bit. You've been treating me so carefully, I just want a nice, hard, _deep..."_

He didn't finish his thought as Thor was far too busy wrestling him towards the bed, pinning his arms by his side and watching for a moment as he playfully struggled.

"Are you going to be good while I get you ready?"

"No."

Thor rolled his eyes while Loki laughed at him.

"Shall I tie you up then?"

"Please."

He didn't want to break the spell by moving too far away. What did he have that could serve?

Loki's eyes lit up as he pulled his belt off slowly, feeling the leather between his fingers. If he was careful, it would do.

"Arms above your head."

Panting, Loki almost slammed his hands into the headboard, eager to obey. Thor was very gentle, loose knots, barely touching Loki's skin, let alone pressing on it. But it was more of a psychological restraint anyway. A game they were playing.

"Now then," Thor said, running a finger down Loki's cheek. "Where were we?"

"You were just about to slick me up and pound me."

That did sound fun, Thor had to admit. But he could throw in a few surprises of his own as he reached for the bedside drawer, their little bottle of oil inside it.

"I am going to slick you," he said. "Thoroughly. Until you're all hot and wet and dripping for me. Until I can go all the way deep right from the first push."

Loki moaned, pushing his hips upwards, his half-clothed erection begging for attention. Time to get started then.

Two months without and Loki was tight, tight and sensitive. Thor tortured him with just one finger for whole minutes, watching the way his flesh cling tightly to him, using far more oil than was necessary just to enjoy the feel of it.

"Thor..." Loki whined. "Give me more. I'm so empty."

"You'll be full soon enough."

He managed to get a second finger in with Loki barely noticing until he was scissoring them apart. That got him some praise, a third even more so, beginning to speed up his fingers and rub inside vigorously...

"Oh, _fuck..._ Oh, don't stop... Mmm, harder..."

Thor thought his wrist would give out, but he tried anyway, watching how Loki's cock leaked helplessly, his mouth open to gasp for air, letting out a little wail.

"Too much?"

"More. Come on, fuck me. I need it."

If he was honest, so did Thor. He was long past straining and close to aching, trying to be a smooth as possible as he drew his hand back, lined up and shoved in.

Loki yelped and for a moment Thor was terrified he'd hurt him, but then his legs were wrapped around him, feet trying to drag him impossibly deeper.

"Oh... Oh, kiss me."

There was no reason why nice and hard and deep couldn't also feature nice and hard and deep kisses, after all. For a start, they muffled Loki's cries when Thor began to move, already sensitive and needy.

They were both too far gone for it to last. Loki had been withstanding so much attention and Thor was practically ready to burst. No matter how much he wanted to draw this out for hours, days even, he knew his limits. He needed to reach between them and finish this.

Loki climaxed almost as though it had been shocked out of him, gasping, body going limp afterwards, whispering encouragement to Thor until he spilled inside.

And even then, he was not finished. Loki easily freed his wrists and practically lunged for him, pulling him into his arms.

"Stay inside me," he whispered. "For as long as you can."

Thor genuinely wasn't sure how long he managed it for.

He was busy sleeping fully in his love's embrace for the first time in what felt like far, far too long.


	115. Chapter 115

The main bank runs had long since calmed by the time Thor was climbing the stone steps with Loki, on the second stage of their adventures in sorting out their affairs. They had written to the liner company to indicate their intention to travel. Three adults. Sam insisted that his letter ought to be separate.

"We want to avoid any suspicion at all," he had said. "If we seem to be unrelated, that will be easier."

Darcy had not liked this at all. She did not want him out of her sight. Presumably, much as Thor did, she feared some last second calamity would befall them.

"What suspicion?" she'd asked. "What could possibly be wrong with friends boarding a ferry together?"

"You don't understand," he said gently. "I can't risk it. Even with my in-laws, we'll have to be careful. You're Thor's wife, that's the way we have to appear. What self-respecting white woman would be seen with me?"

"I would."

He laughed lightly, eyes sparkling, kissing her gently.

"I know. You and others. But we have to think about outside eyes. I don't like it either, but it's just a little inconvenience for all the gain we can get."

There was still a lot of planning needed. They had finished the last delivery and confirmed a time to meet Stark and get their letters proving that they had work awaiting them. They had to pack the belongings they planned to take, give away or sell the ones they weren't. They had to face Nebula...

Of all the tasks, that was the one Thor was dreading most. They ought to thank her, he supposed. She hadn't had to take them in or offer them work or unknowingly hand them the keys to their salvation. The trucks were one thing, he supposed, but maybe they ought to do something more...

Then again, she had never exactly been nice to them. She'd used them as witnesses and had been happy enough profiting from Loki's flesh. Anything she'd done to benefit them had primarily been to benefit herself.

He wasn't at all sure of the etiquette.

The bank clerk was speedy in his work for all that the sum they held was rather less than Thor had hoped. All those years of striving and saving and all of it fit into Loki's hand to be counted.

"Is it enough?" Thor asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Loki put it into an envelope and then into the inside pocket of his coat. One of Thanos's. It fit him well but only because he and Darcy really knew their way around the sewing machine.

"Loki, is it enough?"

He grinned and Thor felt like he'd just come up for air from the bottom of the ocean, like his lungs were filled for the first time in far too long.

The clerk watched him nervously as he burst out laughing, tears in his eyes.

"You must excuse my brother," Loki said. "He's just a little overwhelmed. Thank you."

Overwhelmed was right. He wanted to pull Loki into his arms, spin him around, kiss him on the street.

He couldn't, of course, but that just meant his joy had built up by the time they got home and Loki squeaked and giggled as Thor hoisted him up onto the kitchen table to lay kisses all over his face.

"Hey..." Loki said. "Hey, stop, it's your money too. You helped earn it."

"I know," Thor said, moving down to his neck. "But we did it. We actually did it."

"Not yet. Wait till we're off the boat before celebrating."

Externally, he tried. But internally, his heart danced as they packed their bags, leapt as Stark gave them letters of recommendation in English for the immigration officials, and positively burst when Nebula took the initiative and came to shake their hands.

"Never thought I'd see the day," she said.

"Oh, please!" Loki laughed. "You'll be glad enough to have your house back."

Still, they had all lived together for many years. Maybe Thor's heart was a little subdued as they had a final meal together, in the kitchen and emphatically not the dining room. Everything seemed so neat. Their bags were packed, the trucks stocked with fuel, clothes they didn't need going to Gamora's charity work.

Really, there was only one thing left to do.

He'd planned it with Loki as a surprise. One last promise to fulfil before they left for good.

Darcy was upset almost despite herself as they pulled out of the street and made their way out of the city, sniffling a little.

"Don't worry," she said, though Thor had been pretending he hadn't noticed. "I'm glad really. Honest. It's just... This is home. Was home."

He hoped he hadn't horribly misjudged this. Too late now if so. Loki was in front and heading out on the little detour they'd agreed on, driving on roads they'd helped to build.

At least she seemed genuinely interested in the scenery. The forest, the fields... Things that were so normal and pedestrian to Thor that she had never seen for herself.

And when Loki pulled over...

"Why are they stopping?" she asked urgently. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Thor said. "But, well... How does a little picnic breakfast sound?"

Loki and Sam were already laying out the blankets and getting out food. From here, they could see the city but were out in the fresh air and even the cold couldn't dampen their enthusiasm.

The horizon seemed enormous and beautiful, a promise for the future and whispering of new eras for all of them.

And when Darcy looked down over her home city and wept, at least Sam was there to hold her and kiss away her tears.


	116. Chapter 116

The closer they got to Bremerhaven, the more nervous Darcy became. Even though she knew Sam had planned to walk the last half mile alone, she still let out a worried sigh when Loki pulled over to let him out.

"It will be fine," Thor said, trying to convince both of them.

But it was worse for her. At least he was seeing Loki talk to the official, showing his identity documents and driving forward. He was boarding and Thor felt a weight lift from his shoulders. No matter what, Loki was one step closer to safety. He had that assurance where she had none and laid his hand on hers in an effort at reassurance as the official moved to their truck.

"Thor and Darcy Odinson," he said, the syllables somehow unnatural in his mouth. He'd never said their names together like that before.

The man examined their paperwork dutifully.

"Any relation to the one in front?"

"My brother."

"Hmm..."

His heartbeat had to be audible. Here they were at the mercy of these men with their sharp pencils and sharper eyes. Had they made any mistakes? Had they somehow...?

"This all seems in order. Move forward to payments and follow directions from there."

Against all common sense, he found himself giggling, giddy almost. Like they were children who had successfully stolen biscuits still warm from the oven.

He had to get hold of himself long enough to get out and pay, giving Darcy the tickets to put in her bag for safe-keeping. Though he rather assumed that past this point, they would be assumed to have them.

The ship was enormous. Passengers and frieght boarding, a huge steel sea-beast to carry them across the ocean. The reality might be hitting home, but it still felt like an impossible dream as he followed Loki's truck up the ramp into the belly of the great metal creature.

"Keep moving forward, please," they heard up ahead. "Keep moving. Keep moving. Stop!"

"I know that voice," Darcy said.

No. No, it couldn't possibly be...

Thor leant out of the window, trying to see the figure directing vehicles into neat lines, and couldn't help but stare. He had to be dreaming this, surely. It couldn't be...

He watched as Clint waved Loki forwards, how he stopped mid-gesture, his mouth falling open.

"Is it him?" Darcy asked.

"Yeah. And he looks just as shocked as we are."

He quickly snapped out of it though, giving Loki directions and moving forward quickly. Darcy waved merrily, distracted at least a little from her worry, and Clint waved back, almost like he didn't believe his eyes.

Loki was already out of his truck, crewmen moving in to lash it down with ropes, standing awkwardly to the side. Considering Clint had made it pretty clear when he left that he never wanted to see them again, Thor couldn't blame him for not being sure what to do.

"Can't stop now," Clint said once they were parked. "I'll find you later."

Thor was still a little stunned and Loki looked as though he'd seen a ghost.

"What are the chances?" Thor asked, at a loss of what else to say.

"Pretty slim," Loki said.

They had booked two of the cheapest cabins and it turned out they were approximately the same size whether for one person or two. No portholes or windows at all, but a folding bed and a little basin. It would serve.

They were distinctly less pleased by the rope cordoning off part of third class. The racial segregation line. No crossing allowed. Separate stairs to the sane dining room but separate dining hours to keep everyone apart.

"What do they think will happen?" Darcy hissed. "It's stupid."

"It's five days," Thor said soothingly.

They would be going up through the North Sea and round nearly the top of the world and to New York. It looked so easy on the map. The way Darcy sighed, it might as well have been five years.

But in the meantime, they had Clint to catch up with. At least that might cheer her a little. 


	117. Chapter 117

Despite their animosity at their last meeting, time seemed to have mellowed Clint. He caught up with them at dinner, excusing himself to his work friends and joining their table.

"So," he said. "You made it."

"Nearly," Loki said. "Finally on the boat."

They spent hours discussing what had happened in the intervening years. With some exclusions, of course. They didn't mention Nebula's murders for one thing. No doubt there were things they didn't need to know too.

Clint had done well for himself. He had work on the liners and freighters that went back and forth across the Atlantic. They found it useful to have employees with passable English and French. His children still lived with their aunt in New York, though he joined them as often as possible.

"It's hard, you know," he said thoughtfully. "I was like a stranger to them. Still am mostly. Away at war, away in the theatre, now away at sea. But I do my best for them and that's what matters."

His eyes was drawn to the ring on Darcy's finger, like he was trying to figure it out.

"So, the three of you...?"

Darcy laughed so loudly that she received disapproving glances from neighbouring tables.

"Goodness, no!" she said, still giggling. "No, I'm married to Thor now. A respectable wife. Which is important in these days of travel."

Clint nodded safely. He understood. It was a marriage of requirement and nothing more.

"My sister-in-law has a _very_ dear American friend on the other side of the deck," Loki said.

"Well, I do hope it's a mutually pleasing relationship."

It felt like far too soon that they were being ushered out of the dining hall, Clint due to start work again and shaking their hands warmly. Darcy hung back, standing on tiptoe to see the people coming up for the second dinner service, wanting just a glimpse of Sam.

"Move along, ma'am. I'm afraid I must insist."

She didn't like it. She didn't like any of it.

Neither she nor Thor liked lying side by side in a slightly undersized bed, both afraid to move in case they disturbed the other.

"Well," Darcy said into the darkness. "This is the least comfortable I've ever been in bed with a man and that's saying something."

Laughing helped.

It was strange to spend such a regulated few days. They ate when told, moved when told, slept when obliged to. Darcy slept a lot, saying that it made time go faster and would stand her in good stead for the new time zone.

Thor was happy enough with that. Anything was better than having her sighing and sad.

In the meantime, he and Loki wrapped up warm and promenaded around the deck, looking at the rolling waves. The ship cut through them like a knife in butter, barely any sense of undulation at all.

The horizon was a little terrifying. Thor hadn't known it could be so devoid of anything. Out in the open ocean, he felt horribly small. Loki seemed to like it though, gazing out, inhaling deep gulps of the freezing air.

But, of course, in time, he grew restless.

"I don't like having a room of my own," he said quietly. "It's hard to sleep without the sound of someone else breathing."

And then, of course, he grew bored.

"Brother," he said loud enough for anyone around to hear. "Won't you join me in my cabin? I have something very interesting to show you."

Thor dutifully followed and was not remotely surprised to find himself pushed up against the door with Loki's chill, chapped lips pressed to his.

"Is 'something very interesting' your cock by any chance?" he managed to ask eventually.

"Well, you've certainly found it interesting before."

He could hardly argue with that and had no intention of objecting as Loki dropped to his knees and began making his way through layers of clothing, looking up at Thor with mischief in his gaze.

"You're lucky I'm feeling cautious," he said between little laps at the head. "Last night I imagined doing this on deck. Finding a secluded spot and sucking you down yards from some fine lady."

Thor panted, the heat of Loki's mouth and the image conjured. He wanted to play too.

"I'd have to be so quiet," he murmured, watching as Loki began to bob his head. "Perhaps I would be visible from the waist up. Trying to keep my face neutral while you were inflicting such ecstasy on me."

A little hum from Loki. Encouragement.

"And, of course... Ah! Oh, of course, I would have to provide recompense. A slit in the back of your trousers... Just enough for me to slip inside. Looking out over the railings together... You'd be full and unable to move for fear that someone would see... Ah!"

His ridiculous and unworkable fantasy - it was much too cold out on deck for one thing - was cut short by Loki suddenly doubling his efforts, startling him with pleasure. His head hit the door hard, eyes shut and hips thrusting helplessly until he spilled into Loki's mouth.

"Sorry," Loki said, breathless. "But if you had kept talking about fucking me, I fear the frustration would have all been too much."

Thor could repay the favour though, with gusto, enjoying the tangle of Loki's fingers in his hair and little muffled moans in his ears.

All in all, the three of them spent most meals looking a little disheveled - Darcy from sleep and Thor and Loki from enjoying themselves even in the tiny cabin.

The day land came into view was one Thor would never forget. Suddenly looming out in the distance, smoke and great blue shadows. America.

And the statue... The great goddess he had seen in pictures. He'd never known she was green. He'd just assumed she was as grey as she was in the photographs.

"Give me your tired, your poor," Loki intoned in English next to him. "Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

"What?" Thor asked. He'd understood some words, but a lot of it had rushed past.

"It's the poem written on the pedestal. One of the first things I learned in their language from reading it from pictures."

"What does it mean?"

Loki leant against him a little, daring to join their hands where no one could see.

"Hopefully it means 'We'll take anybody.'"


	118. Chapter 118

The line to get through immigration was huge. It seemed plenty people had had the same idea they did. Disembark and be checked first, them go back for vehicles.

Thor squinted at the line for US nationals, trying and failing to spot Sam among them.

His nerves had ramped up intensely. He felt like a string wound too tightly, a kettle screaming and rattling on the stove. He held Darcy's hand and wished he could hold Loki's too.

Ahead, he could hear weeping and yells as a family were turned away, escorted back towards the ship. The mother wailed while her children, no older than eight or nine, walked stoicly by her side.

His lungs were too small. There was not enough room for air in them.

His hand was trembling as he handed over their letters and documents, Darcy clinging to him.

Frowns. Squinting. Writing. Was this good? Was this bad?

"One moment, please, sir. If you'll just step to the side for a minute."

They took the letters away. They brought them back. Other people in the line behind them were called forward and processed while they waited.

"What's happening?" Darcy asked.

"I'm not sure."

He tried not to be nervous. They had jumped through all the hoops. They had brought all the necessary papers. They had a right to be here.

Eventually, they were waved back over.

The man said something in English that Thor didn't quite follow, but he heard 'Stark' in there somewhere. Had they called him to confirm? Had they thought the papers forgeries?

Loki handed over his passport, smiling. The man stamped it and held out his hand expectantly.

Darcy had to nudge Thor into action and within seconds they were walking beyond the barrier, being directed to the front of the ship to collect their trucks. So simple. He kept expecting someone to tap him on the shoulder and explain there had been some mistake.

He heard Loki sigh and looked at him, tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"No, I..." Loki said, wiping his face. "I just can't believe it, that's all."

Nor could Thor. And clearly neither could Sam when he finally emerged from the crowd and ran towards them, concern melted away.

He still daren't actually _touch_ Darcy in public, but Thor could tell he wanted to. Mainly because he wanted to do the same with Loki. Hug and hold and feel that this was really happening.

"Shall we go home?" Sam asked.

A new home. Nothing could have sounded better.

Children watched them curiously as they drove through the Harlem streets. Really, they should have registered the trucks properly first, but Sam seemed confident they wouldn't be stopped. They had temporary licenses to try to argue with just in case.

He felt guilty as they climbed the stairs to Sam's in-laws' apartment. It was small, very small. Less than a quarter the size of Nebula's house.

And the number of people... Parents, a little older than his would ever be, their son and his wife and their child plus two other grown-up daughters who watched them with a mixture of curiosity and caution. They were all very kind though, welcoming them in, the air already scented deliciously.

His English was not good enough, that was evident. He understood maybe one word in five. Even the baby was able to make himself understood as he reached for buttered bread and tried in vain to be allowed to wriggle free. Other than thanking them for the meal, Thor didn't feel confident enough to say anything.

"They've had to put us all in one room," Sam said after some discussion that Thor had just smiled through. "And there's only one proper bed. Camp mattresses for the single men, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure we'll survive," Loki said.

Thor laughed. What a thing to say. Hadn't that been their goal all this time? Surviving?

And maybe now, they could finally live.

No more grand, distant plans. No more hoping and praying. Of course, they would need to branch out, find their own place, but for now, for a night...

They knew they would have to be in their own beds come the morning, but the risk was worth it to have Loki in his arms, warm and safe and held close.

Of all the things he had imagined in Russia and during the long walk back, something like this had never crossed his mind. Of course not. And yet now he could not imagine his life differently.

"What are you thinking about?" Loki murmured, nosing at his neck.

"Hmm... The usual. That I love you. That I'm glad you didn't fly from me. Why, what were you thinking about?"

"That we'll have to find some privacy at some point."

Sam and Darcy giggled in the darkness. The camp bed creaked worryingly under the weight of two people, but they evidently thought the risk was worth it.

"Don't pretend you don't want some too," Loki said, and Thor could hear him rolling his eyes.

"True," Darcy said. "But for now, I just want some sleep. A whole new life awaits tomorrow."

She was right, even though it pained Thor to give Loki one last kiss goodnight before he slipped away to the single bed nearby. Very nearby. Near enough that they could hold hands across the little gap until they fell asleep.

Thor dreamt. Of warm beds and soft blankets, of magpies building nests and of a smile and voice that whispered sweetly to him. Comforting, soothing, the ghosts of fingers caressing him. Falling snow and the smell of oil and the gentle flutter of gilded wings.

He dreamt of home. A feeling, not a place.

One he had finally come back to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This was never supposed to be this long.
> 
> Honestly, I only had plans when I started this up to Thor punching Ronan on the cabaret stage, which seems a million years ago now. But I couldn't leave them there in 1930s Germany so...
> 
> Sometimes, I felt terribly out of my depth. This is an awful part of history and I was genuinely worried about trying to handle it and about my decision to reach a happier ending than was possible for most people. I can only hope that I haven't been hideously insensitive.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for all your comments along the way.


End file.
